Archaeologist, you will not know my name
in the next millennium. You will not understand ocean, 
or how a person is also an ocean. You will assume person, 
teeming and full, but I am not a person, not really. 
I am trying to be an emptiness.
Archaeologist, every inside wants out.
—  Bronwyn Valentine, from “American Vomitoria,” in Ilk #10