La Cité Performatif

SIGNPOSTS

There are rumors unsettling, of a woman left for dead, then burned, then reborn as a Californian condor. Rising up out of her own ashes, she flew to great heights in sky wheeling circles and got lost in the air above the Death Valley deserts.

Her sister is a black swan with one human arm. She stayed below, in the White City, drawing bridges like ladders up between them:

“...to lure her back down with the delights of having once been home.”

On rare, nightly occasions, the swan-urchin can be seen tatooing the White City inch by inch, covering the buildings with processions of hearthfires, smoketrails, cattle carrion and swan songs...

“...signposts to where I am waiting for her.”