and in part i do not want to be found
i am glad to write without form or tell
it haunts me and at time i think would
n't it be nice - but would it? my form
would change - sharpened: etched into
what today so is - i want to be known
not as a day - i want to be read as only
an archaeologist reads - and be shaped
for as i discard this flesh and bones - i
will know of the hundreds, no thousand
of words that poured forth and it is that
tear that falls from that one person who
finds me