"...how
the hell am I supposed to power myself out of my own
repetitive conundrum into some
sort of straightforward pathway?
I’d repeatedly crash. My
own darkness would be marooned.
My own limbs would break
through a broken mirror, another ex
traction of myself from inside
my own curvilinear folds.
I know I won’t stop folding. I
know I won’t sit still inside
someone else’s vehicle while I
am still alive."
the end of my poem, "I Am Not Straightforward Movement", appearing in Rag Queen Periodical, Issue Two
read more here - https://www.ragqueenperiodical.com/single-post/2018/07/26/1-Poem-by-Juliet-Cook
the end of my poem, "I Am Not Straightforward Movement", appearing in Rag Queen Periodical, Issue Two
read more here - https://www.ragqueenperiodical.com/single-post/2018/07/26/1-Poem-by-Juliet-Cook
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