than you’d expect.
not like vellum.
i write the world
and its edges.
like an icon.
except that it always
changes.
it is good to remember that.
the root of carta means to
scrape.
every day i rewrite the world.
i create shorelines
and make things up as i go.
i recite the names.
i establish boundaries
address the matter of scale.
wonder at what point
distance becomes exile.
every mark i make
is
only to bring me home.
