I saw you pretending to be part of that family as they made their way across.  I saw you put that doll’s mouth to your breast and enter a tent.  I saw a white van mock the pace of a white horse while you slept.  I saw your mother bite the hand because it was empty and I saw its emptiness wake you.  I saw you eating the password to eat.  I saw you at auction and thought for all I know you could be your father whose stillness was my address.