Picture this: holes in the archive, gaps in the room. Absence becomes an urban image (we fall into it) of an ephemeral phenomenon (yes?), a web that spins the body (again and again) and penetrates (oh), sometimes spits it out, making it an archive of what is absent itself. FALLOW FELLOW FOLLOW. The body is seen. (Whose) the body is forgotten. (Whose) the body is threatened. (Whose) the body is touched. (Whose)