There is a kind of no that rises without sound.
A bodily no.
A refusal before the mind has enough words to justify it.
Boundaries that arrive as sensation.
They keep me whole long before I understand what they’re protecting me from.
Explore more:
Home | Archive | Reader Guide | Copyright & Usage Notice | From Her Journal | Process and Drafts | MABST | MAKARI | PANOMA | STOMARI











