Katherine stuck a needle into her arm.
She was on her back
on the dock in the dark, the same dock coated and creaking
through hoarfrost on this late December morning.
This was before we longed for someone or something
to take us away from all the years leading up to now.
How harrowing it must be to swallow the syrupy scraps of night,
then ask for more. What scares me most?
I could see this as a beginning too—