I’m a woman living in a port town
whose drowsy name I hardly ever
utter; I spend my
days revising
last night’s dreams, rewriting
long -forsaken
tales. This has
no end.
No,
I haven’t seen
the sea
for quite a while. But I do
have a boat. I keep it
in my house’s backyard along with other items
to consider
next. I collect things
for later use (like
light, rain, cats
in dunkelblau). Opposite my room there is
a warehouse made of blank
pages, I write on its walls
in my spare
time
