… I’m
sometimes earth in her many-fold loams, her
rocks, razor-edged at times or at times gentle
moons in crescents, laying in waiting, the
clenched fists un-blossomed like
half a dozen petals folded together in
prayer, sometimes shrivelled to a dot
sometimes dot-less, swelling, expanding
into the universe…

from chronicles of entering my body
First published July 2021 by Hypatia Publications