I don't want to be her anymore
I want to be a landscape -
Find me a white mountain
The kind Harris would paint

Make me small.
Fold me twelve times over,
Tuck me between two birch trees
Lose me, lose me, lose me.

Forget me in a Montreal river
Leave me there in the first snow,
Or throw me to the thin light of clouds -
On the north shore of Lake Superior.

I don't want to be her anymore.
I want to be a color.

On the pine plains of Ontario
I want to unbecome -
Is there a spot for me to be unlearned,
Somewhere in that wood interior?

I am a red under-painting, waiting.
Paint me a landscape, a color -

I don't want to be her anymore.