Bodies of Evidence

What lives beyond measure.

green grass field and mountain

Our forms in flight evaded all process of proof, and when they came to measure us, we laughed ourselves into vapor, evading capture. We were solid only when we wanted to be. Yes, we danced freely among clouds, but were neither formless or endless, those ideals that only vanity presumes, and we had none when we were running, streams of selves flowing; would you put a river in a jar?

Author: Stacey C. Johnson

I keep watch and listen, mostly in dark places.

One thought on “Bodies of Evidence”

Leave a Reply

%d bloggers like this: