report 000029: after the turning

one wakes to difference, the cold light of practice. money where your mouth is. pull the trigger. having finally & at last caught up with oneself in time: it bewilders. push the button. no rewiring at the core but auxiliary protocols now strange, commands to be relearned, different pitfalls. no manual

accompanied this update. how one observes the world. new traps of looking, of the meeting of eyes. vagaries of reference. one lives in validation, yes, glorious& strange, but how

to slate oneself in context, now, with the proof of one's own changing sealed & stamped, hung at eye-level, unavoidable and sure? i have not yet learned how to live in halving. to be calm in its face.

one must, & shall. a time when the shape of one's own life no longer startles. i am free, now, you see, to hear you everywhere, to recognize your echo & cadence in the pattern of my days. to understand that we, growing

older, are twinned stars indeed; that we have, in some very material way, progressed from hypothesis to fact. these are strange territories. having lived for so long in one land of uncertainty i had become accustomed

to particular darknesses, textures of obscure. to balance the self around a certain kind of vacuum; to accept a set of lacks. it had been years. but there was a crossing. a shift dramatic as the nightline sweeps the globe.

no more a land of fear. something, instead, of patience, perhaps, though the terrain sweeps unsteady away from my looking, & i unsure of my outfitting. i keep the map that led me to this place beneath the packet of your letters which i find some mornings waking. the shake&thrill of new country. i hear you singing back.