3:55 p.m. - 12/31/01
i run off where the drifts get deeper...
[still irrational.]
still in search of her survival
it is the questions she must ask
that madden her. as if language
and humanity did not evolve
simultaneously, but rather beckoned silently until
she stumbled onto words without mouths
and lay there like a footprint on red snow.
[+]
once told not to ask what she could answer
she quit the use of words
whose syllables were worn.
a language born inside her brain
ripped at her minds like teredactyls
neon rain...revised: she is wiser now
but also lost.
still as feet the shade of sky
a blue blood vein
remains.
�
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