for a moment, the earth was still.

Before she had hips,

the world was already

rolling                                               away from her.

 

By the time she was fifteen

the soles of her feet were

worn as her grandmother’s hands,

cracked into         minuscule maps

of paths she shouldn’t have known.

The shelves were not yet

draped in dust.

 

She reached out her fingers

in a              years           long vapor

of deciphering the lands

on her skin.

She followed the sky just to

see where it went,

eyeless in a rain storm

was no different than here.

 

Breathless from the

chasing

she’d grown old as the

earth.

Grasping at stones

she lay in the grass,

scouring nonsensical

geography

from her feet.

 

Unable to stand

she sunk

knees and elbows

into the damp beneath her.

The wind paused to

dress her and

for a moment,                  the earth was still.

 

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