One listened to the living
and one, to the dead.
Butterfly wings, a pair of lungs,
a bivalve shell.
I see the M and W
traced on my palms.
Maple keys, antlers, feathers, ferns,
the tails of fish.
The one design repeats itself
in endless halves.
Mountain to valley, spring to fall,
high tide to low.
We are each other's counterpart,
together, whole.
Map in hand,
I studied the surfaces and depths
Of the land
assigned to me for exploration.
Flesh engraved,
the contours clearly showed the main routes