"But today, on the beach in Siam I will soak up as much of the elements as possible
to infuse my body with warmth and blood and fish and a different kind of alone,
where I scooped up some sand and found in it the same stars that I used as eyes for the snowman
on the top of the mountain at the end of the habitable world. Maybe it's 1959 all over again,
or maybe I'm dreaming, but either way, I've scorched my fingers and now live in exquisite pain.
So look for me in the dark, and in the light, on the stove and in the porridge and
especially in the eyes of the cat, who knows my name
and has seen my shadow cross the sands of Saqqara,
where I died once, and where I will return sometime,
perhaps tomorrow. "