Academic journal article Field

Satellites

Academic journal article Field

Satellites

Article excerpt

I see at last that if I don't breathe, I breathe.

-pupil to F. M. Alexander

When the actor's voice retreated, he stood before the mirror

noting birdlike minutiae of his head and neck:

before opening his mouth to recite whether tis nobler

in the mind, the jaw rolled forward like a drawer.

Flesh at the nape gathered in pleats, as if a hem preparing

to be pinned, at the breath drawn before a whisper.

Maria tells me this as she presses the valley of my back

to keep my walk from breaking into falls. After

australopithecus, rising from our fists, could we end

our argument with gravity?

Perhaps with time, I could become one of earth's

beloved satellites: kept close, but just outside

the zone of true belonging. But for now, each step's

a bargain with my feet to take my weight. Maria says,

let the ground touch you back.

Years later, her husband becomes one of those

whose heart loses a bet

just as the mulberries go sick-sweet in late June. …

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