The fox is an idea. As a scrap of writing, folded over twice and forgotten in a large volume. (and therefore—) The fox chooses you. On his own terms. At night, he will curl at your feet in the woods. The fox sleeps as you sleep. Follows you halfhidden as you walk a disheveled path. Slipping under shadows of trees and behind gnarled roots. Half in bramble, half in light: figure of darkness, as a giver of light. Comet-tailed. Watching you watching him. Fast as a thought. As a guide, not as a prize. Crazy as a fox. Transformative. Shape-shifter. Yes. From this point, develop from here and make allusions to the hidden, to the mystery—over time, the full poem will offer the grounding background story whenever necessary. As a poet: suggest.
•13/She wore her mistrust as a formal corset, with ribbing firmly made of whale bone and white muslin. She moved as if underwater, bitterly indifferent. •