Because every thought is either memory or desire, the world
pulls away on both sides. Anyone's wish is a bird, and a wish
unfulfilled the unwinged skull, but a seed--fuzzy--pushes
its past toward tomorrow, all flutter and ecstasy. That's why
whenever I see people touch, I place a small white X where they
stood. Chalk, wind. Rock of sugar. Rock of salt. We spend our lives
licking at both. We sleep, eat, cry, sing. I like most when
it snows, when I must reinvent the shivering marvel of each
X, as knowledge is recollection, and love all discovery without delay.
~ Mark Irwin, "X"
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