Two (bordering alignment)

Karla Kelsey

I was working the free radicals, the delay, looking for a method in this desire of constituting a whole. As if to reconstruct an imagined world in shades of red seen through light particles of varying density. Red, darker red, orange-red, air—as in being given an audience and so the ability to perform the whole, the parts there of, the keening. Allowing a “her” into the abstraction arrests it for a moment. This abstraction has been arrested, as a form of grace, light in ash-dense air gilds the trees. We are not satisfied.

                                                     Patches of sky. Which brings us the
new entity formed and named by metaphor for the sake of the object suspended, the noblest part of earth, before we find it blowing so away, as if a statue, not of earth, but of trees charred to cinder. Red. Or we can take the line of our fallen state. Darker red. For if earth is the center of the body, heaven is the center of the soul, with its planned moving, mutability conceded for the pattern, for a constant assurance of species and her parts. Orange-red. We are her species. We are her parts. The abstraction loses its arrest and we wake to the story of the flying bird, now held in her hand and slit down the middle