look at this spot in the woods, I said to all of my curiouself, i gaze into the memory, the surface of it swirls iridescent like a soap bubble and keeps me from seeing the view fresh. I could draw it, but I’d be wrong, the slopes and valley and the thin ribbon road misshapen in the wrong place from reality.

i’m stumped by naming, by choosing the word, no wonder god left it to man.