“An Empty Hand” — Julia Pello

Cautiously emerging
Begging the eggshell of
Small passages, long gazes
Camouflaged of them
From afar gather before me
Slow and impossible accretions
So as not to break on
The shallow end of this body
I’m rising where the curve
Abandons the mountain
And the fields plait digesting
And the wind drains into
A closed corral, silent
Lips, you are the result
Of sense without direction
If only you would chant
Again without remorse
As the dead are buried
Next to the living and
My body is camouflaged
Once more by an empty hand
JuliaPelloPoemImageJulia Pello is a poet, video artist, and filmmaker whose work is greatly revered here at the Peisithanatos Press literarium.  We hope to present more of her work in the near future, but, in the meantime, click here to check out a few of her many film projects.

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