The Seal of Approval
I drifted for yearsnot knowing ituntil I washed upon the island of the seal of approval.No one greeted me.The fires wereThe paths grown over.I was cold, called out.No one answered.Through the dusk I shivered.A snowflake I might have been.When I touched my faceit was someone else’s memoryopening the canopy of frosted palmsbehind which presidedthe seal of approval.Its curled body expressed a möbius strip,a map of imagined countriessome of which I’d lived in for a time.Purple, brown, pink, and bluestates roiled tectonically across its skin.Its whiskers wiggled.It might have barkeda message I couldn’t understand.I touched the face that wasn’t mine.The palms began to close, recede.I lost sight of the sealon its dais of tropical iceI knew tasted of bubblegum.My audience with the seal of approval,when I survey it from this distance,belonged to another life.But there is no one left to askwhat was given.
