A Poem: Fold Yourself

Fold yourself into the precise shape she
last left you. Close your eyes. Breathe.
Picture fragments from before. Remember.
Let her sneak up. Be still until you form

a shell layering like snowfall or sand
blown across desert dunes burying
your thickening contour until you disappear.
Fall deep into the down side.

One world closes and another opens.
Trust her. Take her hand. Navigate through
splintered places, time and faces. Feel remiss,
renewed, degraded. Open to the other you.

Go limp until the sand blows clear,
till crusty-eyed and stiff you reappear.