Suppose that everything that's happened to me or to you
left a mark, a smudge of color, a scant trace of shadow or light.

Suppose, like the lizard
or the snake that in order to grow
I am continuously
sloughing off old skins
and that this re-forming occurs
whether I know it or not.

Suppose that the bright joy
a child feels when she makes a pool of blue and a pool of yellow paint
spill together and become green
is no small matter.

Suppose that this is what
these pictures are about.