petty things

my heart is made out of pictures
minimal pictures of remains
my heart is a box of fragments
slowly trickling back, pervading fragments
like tempera on the canvas of myself
petty things settled in my eyes
then, dripping without aim
then, threaded to give me borders
petty things move and say
but definitely move
thus the big crime is performed,
made out of a myriad of petty crimes
like stepping on the bus
every morning




Installation: Annette Messager