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:: XIX. Grams

It has been a moment since I shared some poetry. Perusing through some of the collections of a handful of poets, in search of piece that moved me, I came across a gem titled Let Everything Happen to You by the poet, Natalie Eilbert. A bit of an exploration of life... of self, this piece chronicles the very thing life makes us do: feel. Feeling the heaviness and lightness of life simultaneously, this piece reminds us that, as the title of this piece suggests, to let everything happen to you. Good or bad. Happy or sad. It's all a stop in the grand journey of life.

And without further ado, I leave this gem here. Indulge.

As a girl I made my calves into little drinking elephants, I would stare at the wonder of their pumping muscles, the sup of their leg-trunks. I resuscitated a bunny once from my cat’s electric teeth. I was on neighborhood watch to save animals, as many as I could. My damage was easy. My plainspoken voice is a watercolor. I’m afraid of it as I’m afraid of what the world will do to color. I don’t think I’ve done much. A table leans against itself to be a table. I hold nothing but this air. I give it off. I want a literature that is not made from literature, says Bhanu. Last night my legs ached a low-tone. I imagined the body giving itself up for another system. Dandelions tickling out of my knee. The meniscus a household of worms. It is okay to bear. My apartment hums in a Rilke sense. A pain blooms. I am told that it’s okay to forego details of what happened. I am told it doesn’t matter now. I want to write sentences for days. I want days to not be a sentence. We put men in boxes and sail them away. Justice gave me an amber necklace. I tried to swallow as many as I could.

You know the deal: Share. Reread. Repeat.


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