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On Possibilities "I shall unlearn feeling, unlearn my gift" -Walcott It is the swirling of currents around her body that makes me think of this: O, to be that water, to be that wind through her hair, the light glinting unpatterned around her face, to simply be. And I find myself fighting against my own desire to make the vision art, my own learned wish to sing. What was handed to me at some unknown moment over years- who will take it, now, from my hands? And she, there, in the small waves of her own making laughs with a joy I almost know, turning to me as I watch, the small drops of water reluctant to leave her skin but falling around her in sunlight falling onto my hands.
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