Cold as a coin, misery places his man-hands on the
heroine’s fast-paced heart. She thinks she lacks the pluck
and nuzzle of her earlier bones, wants to give up her beat.
So, where exactly is North Carolina, why then should
she not go there? Remember the butterfly tree? That strange
non-sound sound, the tongue taste of natural color, the fat
birds on real live trees? Our heroine is much obliged
to the generous authority of the earth. She would like
to thank this collection of authentic apparitions. Thank you
for coming into me, she says. Keep me here as long as
you can stand my own human clutter.