among the society of cartographers: day 1

it may be more complex, this without effort. this getting back, as
it were, to our oblate spheroid (but no-one knows anything worth

knowing). i find aspects of the coast enough familiar for
savor, the body's warm interregnum, waking thus &--here it is/ just

ribs& hands, those tattoos, that patch of sky. it is only now that we
do not take or refuse to give, when the mind wandering cedes its law. but

graphein another matter entirely, as in: depth-perception; your flat & fall
of /after stir & recall of--some occultism. it is easier to ascribe more

fathoms than fewer. i would rather you a çatal hüyük than some scar
across the glacial landscape: your hands in the morning deliberate enough.