And then all of a sudden I didn't know where the day went, misplacing eight hours like I often misplace my keys or my rings or my thoughts.
I went to look for them, but I gave up and put down the heavy wooden oars because my arms were hurting, and I floated,
my sleeping face pressed down on the planks of the canoe.
I woke up with lines across my face and through my chest. Drifting.
Bags under my eyes, time making them sag like wet reeds washed to shore.
Half the time, I wake up not knowing where I am.