Natalie Knight, Xenia

Natalie Knight, Xenia

32 pages / stiched

out of print

from Xenia

In the sun’s frame is an opening like the colonnade into your body
One’s mother’s goodness is not in doubt, it’s enclosed in a web of verbs, tears, anxiety

No problem of your creation—it’s not fault, not yours—the children learn about everything

& forget you in happiness and you’re remembered in thick moldy lace of anxiety,

you’re a producer & they receive, but eventually, they write these words in regret
i’m overcome with it, v.

i’d like to say to never have it but it’s here now

you collide with the beginning of distinctions

without considering the conclusion (of this entire story)

wasn’t it you alone just talking about metaphor?   сейчас, just a little, anticipating

  nothing in its mirror

 of course the blind bees burdened by all the gardens are to blame for it:

 geometry (mathematics) and war

 blood moves branching in your veins      it's with this that

    recognition is woman  (woven)
                        he says:  algae speak loudly of an obsession greater

                                       than  _________

An event begins in non-coincidence. That's why

hunger is preferable to food

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