These fragments have been rattling about in my mind for a few days. If I write them down, perhaps they will turn to clay. “Draft” status, please; comments are still welcome.


Behold, I am become


Wrap surfaces 

Like cashmere:

Stars gitter,

Announce themselves in

Creases of touch.


Rolling red lights howl

Terrors awake and dreamt.

Sounds buffer;

Exclamations exhale.

I render warmth in the

Softness of blindness.

I render objects vivid.

Sight unavoidable:

Either my all-nothing is everywhere,

Or there is substance.

Person, structure, reflection, sigh

Forge my negative spaces.

They preen my darkness.

Dissonance creating 



About Shannon Blue Christensen

Storyteller. Author. Editor. Literary Critic. Director. Teacher. Knitter. nascent Musician. Student. Operations and Quality. Marketing. Historian. Lear's Fool. View all posts by Shannon Blue Christensen

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