Born below a second time.
The shade of the first cast across and down.
Never shakes it off.
Her mouth.
“Don’t smile. It’s ugly. You’ll get lines.”
The shade symbolizes an object in front of the sun:
a blotted person
and subversion.
Her hand over her eyes indicates she herself is blocking the light.
Never the best.
The best has good taste and self-preservation, pride in property.
What will we do with the others?
She grows very little without light but stays weak
(and hangs at the apartment window
lacking attention doesn’t adapt)
Why do you move around so much?
She’s the smallest creature a midget in a mighty nation.
An eclipse of the face.
What could be the value of being shaded?
Hiddenness. Plots.
She opens a secret door into the yard:
White mud.
Is the land strange because my brain holds a template of the familiar?
Yes and I am speaking for everyone.
How did I recognize or accept what was given.
(Every line was a reiteration even in the beginning.)