dear woman six,
you are a rock-face, i think. as in the face of a rock. i've thought a lot about what you are. a tree, i thought at first. a lake. maybe a stone. but a tree is too breakable and a lake is too malleable and a stone is too precious. you are sturdy, and you oversee. oversea, too.
what i think is so great about you is that you have been shaped by the wind, but extremely slowly, over a very long time. you are alone, but in a way that welcomes others to come and picnic; to spend a day in your world, as long as they make it back to their own by dark. if they don't, you become dangerous.
when bits of you break off, they become something else. hazardous. but also: sand for lovers to tramp through, a piece for another person to collect.
you are solitude, and especially now, you are who we watch. we want to be sturdy. we want to exist after the end of the world. we want to evolve.