I was born awake and knowing and time keeps proving this:
men have reasons for breaking the rules. For me, thinking
has always been a logical process of if this, then that. I fit into
a chair. I sit in a room. I split in two—my body behaves but
my mind resists. It’s a simple truth that one can occupy two
places at one time while sitting in a chair—the same way a
poseable doll can be divided from her dress. It’s also true that
time will mesh us together. Until then, there’s another city on
the other side of this wall. A list listing reordered details might
read like this: light, glass, a metal stairway, one woman sitting
on the sill of a window, me in a chair. My feet on the floor,
face forward, arm bent, the very best of the body tucked into
place. But we are not dolls. We feel. We make mistakes.