I’ve been waiting in the deepening light—  

& I see us, in another life. So many overlapping, aching
waves. The mess & the miles.  

These fractals of everyday fault. It rained in Kentucky
yesterday—that sweet sweat of summer,  

water-green rivulets around me. Like so many bangles
down a thin & delicate arm. Now, the sadness  

is in my chest again & the border to this land leaves
an open wound. Better to contain the chaos,  

a slipstream of thoughts that taste of fear between
this ship’s soft, swayed sides that I know  

from forgotten rhythms. A perfect mystery, a mysterious
perfection: yolk-yellow stamens break open

as they bloom. Each a tiny miracle until we make
the same mess all over again. It’s about love  

still making its way through. Stark. Double-spaced.
The first to orbit a foreign body—a poem that begins:  

Don’t go but girl—
he’ll take his leave and go.

Note: this piece was composed as a “self cento” after Victoria Woolf Bailey’s idea during LexPoMo 2023. I picked one line/phrase from each of my poems this month to build this piece.

Lovely to write with all of you this month!! This is always such a joy! Thank you for your poems and your support. Until next year. xx – Em