Cartography

Point of a beginning: my one leg

grows shorter than the other. I

walk in circles trying to even


my sides. Love,       I love you


in a way I am not permitted

to love, but I do it anyway.


The noises of a dozen lives

slick away upon the asphalt.


The dark sluice of metal


on blacktop reminds us

that nothing is impenetrable.

There are sounds for all

 things

and slants also,
where the whole becomes

a collection of parts.
The coroner makes a living


from examining the body, not


as a whole but as a map

with points like stars spread

over a table. Touch this



one and watch the blood disappear

like water into drought gurgling

earth. This leg will never grow


longer. Love. This is how the earth


grew out of stars--shattered

and pulled itself away like ribs


from the dust. A body un
formed
and learning love    in spite

Author's Note

2020