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I dreamt I was your finger, theoneyoulostasakid,clippingroses withyourmother.Itbeganwithfalling fromyourhand,fromthedrippingV oftheshears.Ilandedintheripemud forgetting,whoIwasleakingoutinpulses: I am a girl. I was a girl. Whose thoughts are these? The dark, the dark.Theearth carriedyourvoices,Icouldfeelmyself talkedabout,lookedfor,notfound, thoughIpointed&pointed.I’mcoming backtoyou,slowlylikeanarrowshot underground.Iwokeknowingthis. 103 ...

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