It all starts with my inability to verbalize. My tongue, slicked with oil. Sounds become slippery, sour. I trip over my feet. Do you understand? No matter where we are, we are all here, at this airport, waiting. Last night I had a dream I was in three states at once—Kentucky, Missouri, Arizona. They were called the Three Corner States, in the dream. It was finally my turn, so one of me flew over Kentucky and Missouri in a big big airplane, while the other of me slept in the belly of the Grand Canyon, underneath the stars. An elephant comes in, just about now, standing on the moon. The words, they are heavy and gray. When I try to tell you, I am tripping over my feet again and I am still here, in this room, waiting to fly. And nothing will happen, because I cannot speak.