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Diorama (there is a love story)
It’s between the invisible and the blonde girl.
The blonde girl is a snakeskin,
and the moonlit field is the snake.
Her dress is the tree
in which the snakeskin hangs.
Everything’s been peeled.
The worn paths between the houses
are the clinging that follows her wherever she goes.
The wind is a pelt
that the summer tries to make her wear.
The breathing beside her
must be her new mother.
A drained limb of an evening.
She feels it first inside her mouth,
the animal filaments weaving together and beginning to heal over.
Somebody approaches and tries to hand her a flower.
The soldier, probably. Maybe the doctor.
She warns them both as they approach
about touching her, about inflorescence.
She points to the ground and says
she’s willing to attach to the world at only one point,
so stay back. They stay back.
Good, she says. If they want to,
they can call that love. 
Diorama (map legend)
Diorama (a
moment with the doctor)
Diorama (the young soldier returning to duty)
Diorama (there is a love story)
Diorama (trapper
standing over a young woman in a blue dress)
Diorama (young woman lying on the ground in a
blue dress)