The flesh craved perfumed by the outward image of self submitted to character so the skin sublimates its surface perception seems at once skin and soul is skin and soul. You are not trapped by the body (trapped without the body). I shape language. A mirror yet still more than a mirror—through a mirror, substantial touch submitted unto movement. The other experience. The communal intrinsic task of exploration.

Play is fleshed in theatre full of sin—nuanced with substance. Completely, radically impure, the body in the theatre struggles for purity craving the fruition of community. You desire among that community. Utterly fuckable. Utterly redeemed. Utterly charitable.

The reach, the grasp, brims the skin, the brimming undoing the reach, the grasp, soaring untouchable, intrinsically other. I cannot go. I cannot follow. I walk with. The walk the touch. Submitted unto the always horizon. A physical rendering of the horizon experienced in the sublimation of flesh, fleshed unto. Mere flesh is death (in the theatre it is boredom). Body fleshed unto soul is full of life. The perfume of the root—the other.