a sort of have your cake and eat it too of the dame/orphan dichotomy
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Meek's Cutoff 2010
marbling of faces just in the fingers of firelight, words caught from capillaries between sage and low rabbit brush, horses walking in the laquer drifts of pillow hill clouds, axles - the sound of a wheezing donkey, the shallow valley's bleach of a seemingly interminable tire - passing through, caged by the very magnitude, a hoarse song
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Breathless 1960
i want the streets to actually shine like that, like holes scratched in a window of frost. like each lamp pressing a small world out; that claustrophobic closeness of night light
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