She was not a slender woman, br but her skin was milk br mixed in with strawberry jam br & between her legs the word purple was born br & her hair was the color of wheat & yellow butter. br br Her eyes were dark as the North Atlantic sea. br br She learned the untranslatable words of dawn. br She studied her own fear & wrote its verses. br She used the hole in her heart to play wind-music. br She built her book-houses over her empty cellar. br br She nursed on the muse at first, br then became her own mother.