by Sarita Kvam

Coiled, base, friends with the earth and the roots, and
Humming a deep pitch
The “enamored” can't hear. 

They are grasping with deaf and dilated eyes.
Will they reach?

The song is made undone, made dumb; it reaches.
Less gravel, more shine,
Truncated for easy masturbation mastication digestion shit out. 

The coils that were bent straight
Need be twisted back tighter.
Be patient with what was made brittle.

Healed and self-assured in my curious curls,
Vibrating with the returned hum of self,
Back to nature,
Again, unheard.


Unwinding and reweaving to sing obvious notes . . .
There must be more than a low pitch she has;
She can make and orchestrate.

Let her be alone and listened to, overwhelmingly embraced by the company.