(i suddenly feel as if
i am barely held against the earth
as if i might be lifted
to be held against clouds)

I will not be sorry for feeling nothing,
for being empty of color, for being stone –

(i am a sheet of shining fabric,
gale-rushed and expanded,
unfolded by a wind of seeds)

Roots split my skin:
inside, a field of glass
scatters light –

(a woody trunk creaks out of my body
cups lotus flowers)