Sappho pages are mostly empty, which means you can read them in any order.
but I to you of a white goat
and I will pour wine over
That's one page.
and gold chickpeas were growing on the banks
That's another.
Lately I have been reading and rereading and reading out loud to an audience, my own pages, also minimal or at least airy, working their sequence and letting it go out there and come back as afterwords, afterimage.
Sappho is all there is of her, and, as I pluck the pages, of me.
gathering flowers in so very delicate a girl
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