What can YOU say in six sentences?
Uncertain whether I’m fleeing a border or approaching a frontier, I’m awake as a collision, my nerves, a theory of knots. My face looks like an x-ray of an earthquake. I feel frayed and worn as a smashed Piñata. I yearn to erase all verbs, to burn my fingerprints, to iron my shoes, and start again. Time is sacred, a frenzied clock. Its hysterical seconds paraphrase me. No matter how far I’ve gotten in this life’s story, I’m pretty sure the end can be found near the last page.