Oh, mortality; thy name is…white hair. Eileen Tabios makes silent poetry with her hair in “The Mortality Asemics,” on Queen Mobs. Her asemics remind me a bit of my haptic drawings, which Eileen has written about in Our Own Voice. It’s all about the line, no? My drawn or painted lines tend to be restless, tightly curling or raveling (not unlike my grey/white hair), while the asemic lines produced by her hair appear languid. Yet, as she suggests, those pale strands might be seen as feral, having a kind of wild agency. Both the haptics and the asemics, in their way, provide an open (and perhaps partially hidden) semantics of physiognomy, gesture, and personal energy.