the myth of distance rolls around itself,
winding tight hints of ’here’ and ‘there’
into not-quite bullets,
sometimes called beliefs.
meanwhile, maps look like people
with transparent skin,
all veins and arteries,
and you’re trying to remember
the difference:
something about red and blue,
and the direction of blood,
something about breathing,
and how borders are made
for bodies to pass through.


photo and poem by katherine ferrier ©2017


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