by Nick Gulig
Dear xxxxxxxxxx
Do you remember? Once we walked into the wilderness and
waited. I was afraid. Your body was a book of margins. A blue
door opening. As when I placed myself beside you, finally, a field
of errant light through which to know the world is not precisely
what we hoped for. A door in the wilderness, a landscape
happening beneath. A landscape happening. Such terror there
except that I have memories which feel like somewhere else
(like someone absolutely other than,
and far
