Carol Camp
Meanwhile, Human
The Hidden Now
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While We Wait For Sunrise
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the stars weigh down on me and i think i want out. out of the opaque air, hot wire, scalding blood in my veins - out of the torment. the miniscule red ant and its every leg navigate the intricacies of my toenail and become the ocean. become the ocean calm ocean violent ocean everforgiving. we've been here before, millions of trips around the sun, but is it not tiring? is it not fantastic to not ever see the full picture? is it not the same as death? well, it is, indeed, the same as walking in everyone's footsteps and thinking of my feet as more real, thinking of my toenail as holy, thinking of the miscule red ant as divine. the stars weigh down on me and i think i want them to.