Dundas West, 2011
her fingers were sandpaper.
tracing mountains, rivers,
boundaries i did not even know existed,
until suddenly they arrived and i
became resident of a new land,
where combinations
of yes no back forth,
swallowed, ceased to be.
in her palm spun a territory that
defied the law of physics.
the air above was ashen,
its gravity scorched my feet
as i, aloft and churning, kept
captive in between.
it’s true. atmospheres break.
rain clouds burrow deep.
her grit made the water sweet.
i drank it.
hannah coakley is a poet, food activist, nutritionist, and queer zen farmer living in fort collins, co. her work has been featured in Rebelle Society, The Voices Project, and the Mad Farmer Literary Series. she works nationally in private practice and can be reached via her website.
