and space
and light
and time
it curdles
on the maps

borders
are little lines
someone drew
on paper
to call pieces
of the earth their own

as if this is my poem
as if it were your eyes
reading it
as if
anything we did
was only our creation

and shadows
and whispers
they live
in hiding

you can only see them
when you stop
the search
for your kidnapped
life

when you are
busy with something
so you forget
to think
about it

and you
my love
how long will
you stand on the border
holding that map
asking for directions
into my heart

august 2006
berkeley