After Marie-Louise Chapelle’s Mettre (p. 38).
It was a hypothesis: first who said the loss was a result of knowing what was once impossible. Or it was a certainty. Bits of proof under glass in microscopes. It was an opinion, and loss was not a result, but a shift in direction. The wind picking up speed from the north, telling us snow was on its way. A breeze along the creek. What once was impossible now determined. The same way a footprint sets in mud, then is washed clean from the rain. The result is knowing, a kind of turning. A pirouette where callus meets wood floor. A kind of rotating, such as there is with an axle. A slip in metal.
First it was. Then what was. Once impossible.