Strand 1: WHRI tasked with outreach to older clades, both within her community and within the clade, as one who is a member of the community (subtext, later text, being that it’s because she’s so weird, it comes off as visibly struggling with age) -Strand 2:
+Strand 2: Formative bits of WRHI’s past +Climax: WRHI confronts RFW about feeling gaslit about being crazy, but also comes to accept that she is just Like That in part because her identity has become cemented; talk with Ashes?;
Every reading of every poem, regardless of language, is an act of translation: translation into the reader’s intellectual and emotional life. As no individual reader remains the same, each reading becomes a different — not merely another — reading. The same poem cannot be read twice. (The poem continues in a state of restless change.)