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Movement Poetry Practice




a wash, a wash

a woman.


Vertical fold, horizontal line, 

tend-press, open up chest. Moves

residual from Grandmother’s inbetweens. 


Child night time mouth practice

“shoulder       soldier       shoulder       soldier.” 

Nestled knee to armpit, not being known by others.


If only this space between my arms

is mine, 

this much space is mine.

Assigned Seating


Sitting across the 

clamouring banquet table from

Kati, with cheekbones like lifeboats protruding from the sides of her skull


and her lover, Felix. 

A couple - ferociously 

handsome and gray. 


They met when she was 13 and he was 17. 


It took 20 years to become romantic partners, and they’ve been together

20 years. 


When someone mentioned love,

they held their smiles up to each other’s.


They didn’t kiss but, 

stayed there a while 


with their happy mouths

visiting homebase.


Across the way, 

sitting there breathing, and 

not being them -



adding to the cacophony 

of the echoey room 

with a 

screech of the knife 

too strongly into the plate

below my fried eggplant portion.

Their particles shimmering, 

they must love each other’s breath -

dancing in the wind of it all.

Tree CDMX 8.21.HEIC
Tree CDMX 8.21.HEIC



It has so many broken roots. 

Its trunk a visible record of 

abandoned labor -


outgrown layers,

left ragged and unsealed.


It started again

so many times -


how embarrassing.

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