Sublime

I was pulled deeper into the current of language.

But without a name, things get lost. The image, however, is clear.

Shifts in the narrative would occur—the past never a fixed and dormant landscape but one that is re-seen.

my people my people

I thought

the fall would

kill me

but it only

made me real

Care and love, for us, are pronounced clearest through service:

When does a war end? When can I say your name and have it mean only your name and not what you left behind?