|         This is the middle of my life.       This is my report.                I am on an expedition.       I am working on my own.                I am a woman         looking for a woman.         This is what I've found:                  the woman was an envelope         I unsealed her         I read her contents                  the woman was paper         I drew on her                  the woman was chalk         I wrote her name                  the woman was a poem         I memorized her lines                  the woman was potsherds         I fit her together                  the woman was a net         I untangled her         I loosened the stones that were her weights                  the woman was a map of skin         I read the dust within her folds.                  the woman was a dry creek bed         I followed her                  the woman was a message         I uncoded her                  the woman was a line of wet sand leading to a well         I drank her                  the woman was mist         I inhaled her                  the woman was a memory         I marked her place                  This is my first report.       I will write to you again.                      |