Travel Shorts

Words are like snow. Duplicitous. Empty and uncarved, so, paradoxically full of possibility. Arbitrary and laden with meaning. He sees me as nothing more than a scrambled dictionary. An assemblage of words; lacking coherence, not harnessing verbs. I'd think about arranging myself linearly or in an alphabetical order if I thought i'd make more sense. But maybe I just am who I am. A woman made from words. They've become my identity, my ice barrier, even my shibboleth.