Opening

Step. Nixt, box-clumsy, a cube. I felt an old stiffness. I wondered what they thought of water in the sky, but what else can I find in it? (I would have been better having taken what I only now know is mine.) It came off an old block, through a cold sweat, by biting my lip, through the abject skin of a snake’ belly, my empty blood, still, my lack of faith. It was relief, beyond, felt even as I stood to step.

June 1971