Creation Myths
Poetry & Art by Katelyn Sack
www.katelynsack.com
i. Ribs
The night is thick with unknown
Is it cold? Is it wet?
and I want to take it in me –
and around, up to my rib
to take from it the day
around the nape of my neck
the jowels of my waist
flickering out
"rosehips," you said
into and around me like you –
and me suddenly wanting to hold it all
to make it not known, nor contained
so much as to give it a vessel
to overflow.
ii. Slumber
It always surprises me
the purple tinged with cerulean,
orange limbs surrounded by blackness
and beyond branches, the kindred stillness singing.
Pastel doll-houses in the distance,
now-invisible, not nesting but tolerating
how many?
how many jeans and lace-things on the floors,
dishes sinking in cabinets or under use,
works soaking overnight in
suds of the same stillnesses separate
noisily settling until a carhorn quiets their murmurs?
How many looking down and out or up
to be surprised
again
by the night?
iii. Cold
out of his mouth there
a tiny bud tings blooming –
how quickly it grows!
Poetry & Art by Katelyn Sack
www.katelynsack.com
"I am a writer, painter, musician, nanny, and political scientist currently residing in Charlottesville, Virginia. I celebrate art as philosophy at its most respectful, activism at its most responsible, and the human condition at its best."
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