ALT Suppose narrative untells us. The sentences prose imposes. The forced encounter in a simile. Just like my mother. Just like your father. The mickey of vodka hidden in your belt. A migration from within language: shadows, daughters, voices. How metaphor makes us foreign. Not only to the other, but to ourselves. To know and not know. All at once. How little of us silence might have disowned. How little known a river until it crawls out of a belly and slithers across the grass to press itself against the throats of the daffodils.