New: musings, by Christine H. (a.k.a. roseconsiousness)

How cracked and apparently empty except for air-eggshells convey beginnings

[because as Boully says to begin means that we are in some way cut, that is, we are in some way opened up] ?

How the same object locked up inside a cabinet with glass windows, key nowhere visible, might signal an ending?
Do we end things by putting them behind windows?
How can that be translated into writing?

Framing comes to mind.

Is what makes a text/
a poem
feel 'closed'
due to the fact that the writer withholds the possibility of touching/
smelling/
feeling/
imagining/
thinking language
from the reader,
in other words withholding a space where the reader can engage
the work/
language
by himself?

the notion of open
versus closed?
inside
versus outside?
In both cases it seems up to the viewer,
the reader
to make meaning of content,
to fill and feel the words
'beginning',
'ending'
'book' ?
as a writer i wonder how the practice of consciously writing beginnings and endings affected her
the body never existed before the murder
to mean
to write something into existence,

for words to begin, we must kill something, silence