The first time it happened, she wondered
if everything had stopped.
Time, place and motion- all at once
dropped to the floor
everything began to pull
to gel, regaining form and function.
When it happened again, she felt the ache
that repetition brings, the cells’
collective memory of wound
What the body remembers. Each particle, in the
ciphered language of genetics can vividly
recall the extremities of our collective histories,
drawing them to the surface each time
the story is repeated.
May 13, 2008