I traveled to a temple in the mountains. At the law school they were screening us, scraping the boils of our palms. It was the Dean who scraped my skin, found ailments. I am told I was selected randomly for the screening; I object. On account of my boils, away did they send me.  Many people I met along the way were women. We had taken to our feet, walked there. Many women I met along the way were people. There was a woman with tinsel for hair. She was a silver woman. Other travelers gestured to silver, calling her tin. Tin woman. What a horror, to be reduced from silver to tin. No, a shame, it is a shame to be misinterpreted, it is a shame to be anything at all. Silver woman took to a cornfield, and I too. She was on a journey of her own, skin silver, void of ailments. From her I hide my hands. We took to a cornfield, or maybe to the mountains of Vermont. If she stared for too long at a cornstalk it shivered. If she stared for too long it silvered. For fear of creating silver she did not stare. I stared but what appeared was nothing.  We met the temple on the fifth day. Was it the temple or the Aegean Sea? New woman asks if we found the temple with ease. What she should have asked was if we found the temple. Not at all, says Silver, what we did not find was ease what we found was the temple. We enter, a band of women. A woman-ocean. A stairwell swirls for as far as the eye is willing to meet the eye. The women and I climb these stairs, if you can proceed downwards and call it anything but descent. At the final stair’s foot a woman lies, keeled over. I thought her to be slain. Horizontal woman is a wisp. Some say that all horizontal women are rail thin women. She was like silver, her hair was a tinsel, it veiled thinly her eyes. All of the room’s light belonged to her. It was across her hips a small dog leapt, yipped fitfully. We thought, each, to silence him, but how. Each leap slashed her skin to lace. Medical personnel tend to her body with only their hands. This is a bleeding they do not try to blot. When I climb or descend the stairs, upon her do I nearly place my foot. I lift my foot to step across the dog. Our women-ocean grew ridged with turbulence. Medical personnel tries tenderness in their touch. Says, see, it’s safe to go. The woman vibrates, lurches a liquid lined in a thin glow. Silver woman stares the spill into a shilling. I stare the spill into a nothing. While I am scarcely certain I am certain of her passing. The dog pants. The dog chases the tail of the dog, the dog lays itself to rest. I believe in sauntering to an Eastern temple to die while your dog watches.