The woman was

the woman was an envelope
I unsealed her
I read her contents

the woman was paper
I drew on her

the woman was chalk
I wrote her name

the woman was a poem
I memorized her lines

the woman was potsherds
I fit her together

the woman was a net
I untangled her
I loosened the stones that were her weights

the woman was a map of skin
I read the dust within her folds

the woman was a dry creek bed
I followed her

the woman was a message
I uncoded her

the woman was a line of wet sand leading to a well
I drank her

the woman was mist
I inhaled her

the woman was a memory
I marked her place