Leveler Poetry Journal
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I say erstwhile


& you find me at thirteen looking for rocks in a field with a coat made of

clouds. And I think what the inside of my mind has looked like and

whether it is populated now by trees or by the hollow outlines of those I

have thought to measure. Our minds are all the same distance from one

another which is to say distant. But there is something tender embedded in

being still alive. How numb I felt when the wind started up again moving

your hair in a direction my mind could not locate as anything but


Holly Amos