Fall away, retreat: laughing, across the tatooed landscape scattering like fireflies after the moment of thunder, singular splendour of the instant Sundered, washed away - we recall a crystal or two of joyful forgetting: a dozen places and poses once ours: now the past's possession. You feel it? A part of us gone, left in a glass, by a quiet table; under a seat on a train. So we are constructed - block upon block, and pulled apart strand by strand.