This is a re-collection and a translation. Considering Benjamin's assertion that memory is a medium, this work is a long hybrid poem of impermanence, rifts, debris, and fragmentation. Maybe this work is about loss, a search for cohesion. As one does when traveling, when covering area... running away, returning, reclaiming, pondering, and abandoning again, in an attempt to suture the fracture of immigration into something palatable, clear, comprised of elements outside the body, within an (a)historical framework, the noumenal. I am attempting to break form, patch it up, rebuild, stay in the marginal, the penumbral, in search for a lost place, a place which no longer exists, and perhaps never existed to begin with: all lodged in a memory within the current context of my surroundings