our ugly half*
our ugly half*

our ugly half*

– aren’t the worst of us embodiments of our extremes?

body flat on ground, steady chest.

How do you see a body that stills,

that is refused life – that is torn, charred.

.eyes are harsh auditors of encompassment.

do we channel tear, fear, love

into the beings that extend our own

that mirror our own, our unknown…

what good then, are big blue skies of oceans

if they drown the faces of our parts

what good then are petal grasses of flowers

if they fail the expanse beauty of dreams

what good, the fresh air of wishing, of working

if us, in our vilefullness, are us?


Have you ever set out to search for the missing half? …The half that’s misshapen. Ugly, itchy, heavy, abrasive. Awkward to the hand, gritty on the tongue, platypus of history – stage of how we got here that we’d all prefer to ignore. Have you ever feared what the missing half would reveal?

Shailja Patel

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