2. Why I study the text
There is the same assurance in the open
page as in the open fist: closure
must happen eventually.
In the open-ended argument we find
one truth. This is all of us, we are so large
that another person’s story can lacquer the soft
wood of history. We are so like the weed,
so like the blade of grass that our organic parable
is biblical. There is no need to believe in us.
I believe what is written: that a wind lifted
from a bay in Asia can travel a long and haunted
journey to touch his face, to slip through my fingers
and loose a lock of hair from my forehead
as it sinks into my tired palms. I believe in
the inevitable. We read the texts closely
because we are so large that the answers locked
in our most sacred physiology are not our own.
They are buried in the skin we choose to reach for.
I miss English Literature so much sometimes.