Names, places, things. br Whither, thither, wither. br br Names that speak of where you come br Or began or have become. br br Names, faces, and places. br Nothing, noone and nobody you have become. br br When my mother was young, she would br Play with me, her face showed her love. br But that was far away, when I was someone. br br Perilous was the crossing. From one life to another. br Am I an entity still? What do I become? br br I speak in strange words to a stranger in a strange land. br An entity, yet but in my mind I think: br No Homeric persona am I, not a protagonist br Just an entity on the brink br Of nonentitiness, of trying to understand.