Topography

You have not been mapped.
You would be a beautiful country.
Arms stretched, your feet together,
the camber of your head;
meridians to divide you.

I didn't learn you in school
no cross section on the black board
thin layers of time,
petrified.

We talk
but I don't know your borders
or the channels you dug
no circles of your cities
no wind-rose, no flag.

No coast where I can wade ashore.