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. |