Sometimes, when the origin of ideas of the sublime and the beautiful
are struck by lightning, I root into the hail of stones
at the precise center of the world
and sink into that dust.
The trees
maintain their erectness through the reciprocity of sight. Somewhere below me,
the rhythm of a body continues and continues. I close my eyes
between two figures meeting in a kiss
my fins, my rhomboids open themselves
to a continuously precarious verticality. I think of the constant
making and unmaking of union
a line that describes,
smooth surface of multitudes

Karen Kelley has published three books of poetry: Mysterious Peripheries (Singing Horse Press, 2006), Venus Return (Vatic Hum Press, 1999), and Her Angel (Singing Horse Press, 1992). She lives in Scottsdale, Arizona.

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