Heavy sound comes from the framed sides of history. I hear a heavy sound.
It comes from a machine.
People in sleeves of grey are next to it. A sound of metal voices came from the floor.
It comes from a machine. The sound of wood.
From another room softer voices and soft steps enter hemisphere. Two artists
talk on the thing in front of them without noticing the heavy sound.
It comes from a word, from the industrial sounds on the handmade floor
and so it goes, again, again and again. The game. Weak steps. Noise. Ground.