– 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