before it was a metaphor First scrape fat from skin, turn to sun what never felt light, in vitriol bathe open wounds, sear to
Then we woke in a period of suspension. Of being kept within a violated interior, an erasure in which each of us lived in
For years the roof of this house sloped, front and back, a perfect, Cape Cod symmetry. Until new owners built an addition with a
“While you are acting conscientiously and sincerely wishing and trying to learn the truth you cannot be wrong.” —Emma Darwin, to Charles On the