The dimensions are dizzying; peaks
unraveling the sky, light sheer
as rock unbroken by leaves or shrubs
or the humble shadows of the passerby.
In this wilderness, I must invent
my own markers, a way of describing
distances only my body knows.
I’m like the first settlers who tried to stake out
a plot in rampant space: nights,
the frail structure of our belief crumbles.
And yet you look at me and see a woman
like any other; you don’t see
the landscape of illness, the cliffs
within myself I scale each day.