I begin at night. I paint my skin and the hairs of my body and of my head. Now the sun is rising and bright hairs fall, flakes of skin fall all around me as a glittering dome. Now I have their eyes they come in and they are an audience. The sun is rising. It is midday and the head throbs. So they are pressing on the fence. They are spilling into an air zone. Now I name the secretions of my rivals. This one bleeds. This one's nose dribbles as he cries. They will be devoured. The sun is rising. Flakes of skin fall from the rising body. The clamour is an open breath and it casts a shadow. The body shines.