Search
Origin
- Katherine Duval
- Jun 29, 2020
- 1 min read
I felt the cell trauma—go back, go back—where the brain floats in cytoplasm, fledgling, scared—retell, retell—electric pulse in the womb existence, not yet formed but I always was—before the birth, before the language—here’s my little pinkie finger from the fall—severed but living in the time jar—no decay, forward myth.
Recent Posts
See AllDescendent, O Father Auklet, The Spring Season bird knows land For a little while. Click. Click . Click. click click click...
I wish this depression would lift I sift through thoughts that drift Trying to believe that breath is a gift Gripping the sheets ...
Maiden, yonder upmost Tallest Tower, enGlen’d + Spinning Beauty, ne’er fair’ than earthen rarities as cold, wet clay...
Comments