Muster

Vigorously splintering, undone in patchwork rags of continuing, to grow in patterns of abject reprisal for a peace beyond isolation and detachment, Kate Frances spins the daily times into bittersweet mementos of endurance, spelling moments at a time into a long shore, where stands the individual, a collection, listening to themselves, catching the faint susurras of becoming. How we almost whisper to ourselves in waves and crests and listless song. How we move on and remain, mustering something. [publisher's note]