Arrangement in a Spring Equinox 

by Vince Cousino Anila

Freightliner accelerates makes winding. What she meant to say was joy not bathed in dim light of incense and puja: the cold's admiration relaxes in kind, ebbs outward.

She thinks in colors of feeling. Shadows that give doing now eclipse in reflection transparent voices: a truncated vocabulary navigates this new landscape. Of warfare images, she fingers loss and is not ashamed. I am nothing but a list of sensations.

Two mice scamper by, clicking along the floor of train cables and on a mirror reveals thinking. Treats recent wondering as though her silence or movement were no longer theirs to reduce. Caricature, the traditional task. This is not to trace cadence of passing trees maintain transparency and muffled. Indifference gives warmth to what's hidden: he cannot provide the record of her memory. Optic alteration, here a petal. Language and leaves filter shifting prisms, don't actually change color. When frozen, define the limits of desire.

As water recedes, composure shelters in aimlessness. This not knowing is fluidity leaves texts trace original mists are groundless. Her solitude, then, is transportable: no longer body obscured in admiration, in colors befitting further dislocation. Lacking the word "betrayal" allows only for suffocation. No record of incense and puja.

This is not a map of speech, redrawn to show geography. Something more like geography imposed, a procession of convenience for some. Or a cradle this time bought with an ancient uncertainty. As though text were permanent, voice's equinox gestures her freedom in exposure, waiting. Seeking gaps: in this way, lists exist although visible.

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