let them go tarpan

Automatic text in response to collage, part of ongoing inquiry into squaring the circle:
(for nana pussy)

 to unearth the ghost of the tarpan...

I peel back the bark of memory
and it's girl is also a goul
illuminated by a single iris
or does she shine on it's yellow? (I cannot tell)

the tarpan recede
as i peel and peel; a remembering, following sort of dryness
a sandstorm in the mouth
but at the very same time watered
by the precision involved in me folding a paper airplane
which is just the present, apparently.

and lets be serious, i can fold it with my eyes closed.
I, delimiter and colour.

Oh, and the word foals!