To The Edge of the World (sixth letter)

You could be anywhere these days.  I realized this as I wrote to you the first time.  I hope you end up getting this somehow, just as I have with the other letters.  You must be close.  We’ll see each other soon.
For most of my life I’d considered you a concept, a creative invention for reconfiguring our understandings of the way things are.  I thought you were like this even before your literal existence was discredited, before your relegation to the status of allegorical representation, or fevered dream of the West before the West .
The frontier has always sought you out, only to find itself in the end (and a perpetual denial of obsolescence).  You remain a material reality despite this.  Your persistence is fueled by necessity.
You’re waiting everywhere despite yourself.  It’s hard for me to tell you, let alone reflect on it, but you’re always being violated.  It continues until we’re dead.
Pipelines will run through as you appear and disintegrate.  Armies will run amuck as you jump out and away.
A state of total incarceration ends it and we both know it’s coming.  There’ll be no jailers left to support the living and no more divides to cross.

Please let me be with you now before it’s all over.