Ephemera & Poetry / et cetera / Poetry

Anna Swir Moment, 8:07 CST

Finding/Anna Swir Moment, 8:07 CST

 

What are these chokes of breath,

they which don’t break in normal tongues

only cursive slyness, inked, sliding

across my clavicle upwards and down,

down to the basics of solitude

where a quiver was found, a

flutter that taps out its voice:

 

I’m still here,

or, I’m here but not there–

my warmth knows no place

except where questions are found.

Leaving Prague

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