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      December 3, 2014No BodyJ. Divina Erickson

      not a flower not
      a piece of wool, not low-cut
      t-shirts, not third base, not a book
      open upon the floor, not dry skin,
      not a knot in a rope, not a tethered ball,
      not our shadows on the wall in the
      bathroom, not a dark closet,
      not a pile of clothes,
      not a waste,
      not a corset tied so
      tight there is no breath,
      not a knife on the nape of the
      neck, not a trace, not a permanent
      crease on the thigh, not an open face, not
      a sandwich without mayonnaise, not
      a birth canal, not a parent, not too
      rough, not a dull ache, not a
      collection of kapala skulls,
      not a copy of paradise
      lost, not feeling real,
      a tree struck by
      lightning splayed
      in an open field.

      from #44 - Summer 2014

      J. Divina Erickson

      “I’m an introvert by trade and intimacy is difficult for me to come by. I feel most connected with a person when I am reading their poems, which is why I really enjoy reading and writing poetry. It opens up a venue where I can be with the soul of another person without the pressure or anxiety to be completely exposed myself, or staring someone in the face as I do so. This isn’t supposed to be as dark as it sounds.”