I am a stick in the big brown mud. I dilute my wine with ice, we kiss in bed and I get tired. I cut my hair like I’m a horse but in my heart I am a mouse. I would paint my face everyday into the shape of hesitation. The cards saw fire and they saw earth. If I am death will my rebirth be a sigh, a scream, a sexy dream, the hand, the keeper of the secrets? If I am earthbound the ground will be collected autumn sounds, the breathing out of a wordless year, in again and completely.