Poem By Sarah Eve

In depths, in steps we slept
And kept
Our lives as rules by two
Within creation somehow deemed
To force our mould into their shoes, but news
Is circulating
Power dissipating
Out of the depths
We emerged and crept
Great tepid water
Thus we leapt
First with imagination
The leafy veins we forge
And then with vaccination
We place our safety at the stoop, front door
Hands arrive to grasp the spin of our rapidly melting moments
Without trepidation, we take our tumultuous action
Into the fuzzy lined distance we trod
The anticipation of young idealists
The anxious pivots and frenzied long-jumps
We pump
our wine into determined vessels
The muscles
Of change, this is not completion
Our lives not lives of progress
But continual alteration
We find our embodiment here
This corporeality, we feel so tactile
We swivel in our chairs, glued to the concrete floor
This is the ever-shifting nature
Of our purposefully outcast lives.

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I Sat Beneath The Question Mark

I sat beneath the question mark
And ate the wonderment
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When walking out upon your words
I thought I’d rather swim
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