C h a r l o t t e  T h u r m a n

ECHO knows only herself
an absolute and eternal guide

When she looks inward, she sees everything
the reflection of a reflection
the most eloquent of collapses

a butterfly body
a book - our earmarks and creases
clouds over lakes

When she decides to move. To go beyond what she knows,
she is consumed by that space which contains her.
ECHO holds time and space and distance

She shows us these things through the act of loss
A sound returns, not as a boomerang, but as a fragment -
still it has found surface. A departure and a refrain.