When the Unnameable came to me as a young shepherd boy he had your aspect, I wrote him into my articulable experience, my text, the one I parade to the world as Story. But, as I'd forgotten you, could it have been the true text? In that vision, the shepherd took my hand and we lay down by the still waters, where I let him kiss me with the kisses of his mouth. His left hand was under my head, and his right hand did embrace me. I gave the dress away during those years, but it came back to my closet unobtrusively.