After the light and the disarrayed feeling
distraught, distracting, distracted, sought
What she did, she grew to create herself. In the end, it was like a forest. Only the wood-keep was gone.
In the leaky den
she cleft her legs and was
He is fascinated by the storm door and the firelarme as he calls it. Also the watering trough and the bucket of ferns.\
Her time here to be slated –
“Must come to be written, through the hedgehog and the bees.”
It came to mean there was something in the rafters, a woodchuck, or something
Would it be better to live in the forest, let the forest reclaim itself? Tame the woods
(so long as the invisible beckoned to her like fists – )
Was it not she at one a.m. shouting I want to root here – ?
the lying one, the one bawling, the one to be broken with – through the window with terrible breath, the
one with the cough that got worse, this one
who imagined her backwards, who wrote her name backwards