I will not remember, only describe.
This is the first time I’ve really wanted to be accurate.
—Lisa Robertson, “Face/”
The women form rows
Lingering variations, slightly layered
it is noon
A crouch
delicate bend at the knee
How a painting’s low rumble patiently exists
Why do we need the experimental feminine?
What is necessity in relationship to due time?
I don’t know of many changes
Start over swimmingly if not backwards and through
Part of their bodies are over the silver lines
like an imaginary, rotating system
It is impossible to maintain a mirror image
Even though the ground is slippery
Women who are with each other belong
as in being long
I can see what’s the same with stern yet minimal grace
all the more rolling
As bodies become each other’s witnesses so do I
Symmetry can be purposefully
Difference is a circle, unfurling
