i have one eye in this world
one eye in another
not an if-world
but a spilled space
that rips itself apart,
an otherwise world
where be-languages
fall apart in boundlessness
and do-languages melt.
i have no mouth there
where i sleep and fall into the lake
and i don’t float.
i don’t know how to swim
in there
but i know how to weave
and dig up my walls.
boundary walker, where is your wolf?