Reading #195

AME AND THE TANGY ENERGETIC. A NOVEL BY KATYA MILLS

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still life ’19

summer got diluted by the stained glass. some kids were playing chess in the soft light behind but they were young and they weren’t really playing chess they were just playing. a fish in a bowl swam the circumference and filled the form. the heat lost its arrogance on the sill. we made the most of it. the dog asleep. the cat, up high and still.  -katya

 ten five. fish

some friends are like

friends are like

are like

     fish you cast out for

 them cast out for them

out for them

    and (too small) they

 have to be have

to be too small and

thrown back to the

back to the

shallows the

sea

you cannot fight her. she’s the ocean

you cannot fight her. she’s the ocean

by KatYa

i went to the ocean and crashed into a giant wave; it was like a slate wall, transparent green. i had only a white undershirt on when we collided and black boyshorts underneath, and the wave did not hurt but it slapped and broke into many liquid particles which could not be traced but pulled my hair down and stuck to my face and neck which felt pretty good, and beneath me everything was undulating with a calling, sucking motion, calling me, fizzing, and i was not scared though i was unlike the giant scaly bodies underwater, deeper out; i knew she would not hurt anyone unless they fought back, you cannot fight her she’s the ocean. i did not break in my black and whites, in the rainy day greens and blues of the undertow, i just stayed together and let the ocean cry and pull me, and the salt to dry in the bubbling nest of spit and foam. i went with the ocean and i guess i disappeared, i mean the earth did not know me, nobody looked for me, or if they did they did not find me, but someone missed me, somewhere, i just know it. i could feel them and saw them in my routine kelp readings thereafter. Mostly it was my family, so far away but still caring and loving me a lot, maybe more than i would know, the otters suggested, teaching me the art of cracking mussels. i lay my head on a current, listening to the ocean, and traveled to new lands never before known, in a sea bubbling like soda, the many colors peeking up off the crests of the waves crashing inward far from us on the inside looking back to the shore, and the earth now was scary, dropping off of the level, and the sky quite unfeeling, unhelpful at best, but we didn’t care… and i slept peacefully, peacefully, there.