ABSTRACT
for D.G.B Every day our bodies separate, exploded torn and dazed. Not understanding what we celebrate we grope through languages and hesitate and touch each other, speechless and amazed; and every day our bodies separate us farther from our planned, deliberate ironic lives. I am afraid, disphased, not understanding what we celebrate when our fused limbs and lips communicate the unlettered power we have raised. Every day our bodies' separate routines are harder to perpetuate. In wordless darkness we learn wordless praise, not understanding what we celebrate; 123wake to ourselves, exhausted, in the late morning as the wind tears off the haze, not understanding how we celebrate our bodies. Every day we separate.
