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   t h e    w o m a n    w i t h    l i p s    a n d    a    l a n d s c a p e

--- S H A W N   L Y N N   W A L K E R

			- for M.

The landscape contains nothing but distance. The rolling gesture becomes her lips. The distance was red.

One can be introduced to the landscape. The lips became attached to the keyboard, which belongs to the cord which detests the landscape.

The lips forgot how to travel, a form of rolling. Violet fell like leaves, opening the tree through which the landscape passed.

Sometimes the landscapes believes it can take form, and sometimes it takes the form of another woman, and then again sometimes.

A woman believes in landscape. The landscape never rests. A woman believes in lips as sadness rusts. A landscape buries musts, rolling.

A cow could never wander into a landscape. The woman could never detach her lips from the landscape. Somewhere, a stone desired the texture it once had before the river.

The woman aspired to circle, and movement became her lips.

Only the lips could match the landscape. The lips forgot about travel while measuring, but were reminded by the number.

Love became an invisible airplane and could be entered, though only within the landscape. The lips became jealous of the sky. The birds distracted the landscape.

A woman does nothing in a landscape, so the landscape loves its lips.

The persistent form of violet calls the landscape into question. The lips call the woman into the landscape.

Sometimes the lips believe themselves to be a chair, and the woman almost believes in this chair.

A landscape mistrusts a white wall. Lips defile a white wall as the woman negotiates.

The triple sink hides a landscape. The lips point it out.

A landscape does not have an opinion on New York City. A map moves quickly, and the lips agree. The woman sides with the landscape and protects it by understanding the laws.

The woman places a cup in the landscape and adores it. A berry can ornament a landscape.

A landscape cannot be read. Lips cannot lay under anything. A woman can be a circle. Lips and landscape cross her.

A landscape has no intention. Lips have no landscape. A woman can walk.

A landscape always fits. Lips may blister.

A landscape is infinitely patient. Lips are not a dialectic. A woman listens from her rock.

The wind instructs the landscape. Lips harbor a sail. Somewhere, a woman remembered a skyscraper.

Occasionally, the landscape is lonely for another landscape. But there is no other landscape for the landscape to encounter. So the loneliness moves onto her lips.

A landscape never changes and has no plans to do so.

Lips indulge in houses. The woman becomes a door.

A landscape cannot make a name for itself. A landscape believes in stone but does not seek it out.

A woman illuminates a landscape with her lips. Her lips know no secrets.

A woman believes in a woman with lips and with landscape.

Work is possible with landscape. The lips do work for the woman.

The landscape resists attention.

A landscape discovers a tree upon it and clings to the tree, though the tree may depart. The lips believe in a dirty tree. A woman may walk through all of this, wishing and observing and cleaning with her lips. A woman may sleep under a dirty tree.

A landscape directs the sun.

A woman cannot promise her landscape. Her lips are always moving.

A refrigerator cannot contain her lips, so they must always be moving. A woman can ride a bicycle, but her landscape has no knowledge of bicycles nor of roads.

A refrigerator does not belong in a landscape, so it hides behind a tree. A woman cannot hide in a refrigerator.

A landscape adjusts the eye. When lips are concerned about audience, the landscape offers itself up.

The woman believes in water. The landscape amounts to lips.

A radio adjusts a landscape. The wind cultivates a landscape. A woman considers the condition of her lips and tunes them to the landscape.

A landscape continually makes room for lips. The woman sometimes considers the landscape a collector of lips and violet.

A woman desires nothing. Lips desire a radio. The landscape accommodates a bridge. The woman arranges a meeting.

Birds pay no notice to red, so the woman permits their flight.

A woman is not an abstraction.

© crossconnect 1995-2000 |
published in association with the |
university of pennsylvania's kelly writers house |