This is time to redraw the world, starting
where the fault line is still warm.

This is time to learn about tectonics,
by which I mean noticing our steps,

considering how we land, what dust
gets kicked up – all of it, eventually.

This is not time to discuss what I get
and what I don’t get. All these years

I’ve remembered your location based
on proximity to him; you’re the lovely

sister city to this new ghost town.
This is time that makes it easy to wonder

whether the map had ever been right.
In fact, this is time to revise my revision

plan: we’re not redrawing a map,
we’re molding a new globe without

one support-bearing continent and no
replacement, no control over the velocity

of these new currents, weather patterns
assembled from scratch, but there’s

another mistake already, we don’t
assemble as though we’re makers,

we discover as we go, carving a path
for others, softly showing the way.