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GRASP

 

have you forgotten
the terms of this pact,
the lines we once lifted
from songs that
remind me
of bells and stems,
a collection of waves,
a kill, a cure,
a whim
made permanent, arcane

did we ever lie close
in the black
of a room belonging to no-one,
switched like breakers
curved to conduct
the pitch
of a laugh,
a meteor shower, a shimmer,
a culvert,
a quarry
turned sleight of hand

so thin the grasp
of whispers held
for hatching plans to stay
somewhere
within your reach,
an iceberg,
an archive,
steady, remote
unflinching,
done and
dusted

still I’ve missed
how the sky
bent back to our will
steeped in each other’s
guiding pulse
a doubt, quelled
a tonic
a longing
to be set against
the gape, the maw
of a truly
starless night

 


ShananKurtz_2Shanan Kurtz is a visual artist working in sculpture, installation, and photography. She also writes poetry and essays from her studio in Nottawa, Ontario. Her work has recently been published in The Northern Appeal and she was awarded an Honourable Mention in 2021’s Power of the Poets contest, co-presented by The Power Plant Contemporary Art Gallery and Toronto International Festival of Authors.

 

 


Vallum16_1_Cover_web_fixedThis poem was originally published in Vallum issue 16:1 Connections.

Vallum magazine is also available in digital format. Featuring additional content such as: AUDIO and VIDEO recordings of selected poets, further poems, interviews, essays, and MORE! Visit our website for details.