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Writer's pictureMichelle Hammel

by Li s.

Like the way a globe does not do the world justice

so too does a mapping of bodies not do justice to the unseen details of that softscape

there starts, at the neck, another’s hand, and their breath

and at the chest, a dormant volcano awaiting a shift

from in the stomach a set of fireworks, a light show of luminescence only seen

(like the moon)

when the rest of the world is on fire

and all the kindling

the match

the delicate, deliberate beginning

is in my hand again

where water is like a signaling mirror used from a forest for rescue

and a pulse like a beacon

but the heat is the healing

which finally brings the flood

a unique balance of elemental energy

a place much more than it seems

the body, the map, this dream.



In a pink sky morning

there is calm

breeze

patient opportunity

and as life warms up

wings trembling

our courage

hope and wholeness

breaks with day



Depth and darkness

founders of freedom

from sense-based interactions

without the attachments of form in the absence of light and definition our existence

rests / with the rest

of the unknown





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