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Lacuna. A poem by Sophie Strand.

 LACUNA

A small comfort to know you already have lips,
eyelashes, a bellybutton, a way of taking
coffee; already have friends, ticket stubs, scars,

a favorite book, a least favorite book, lovers, although
I do not yet know your name. A small comfort to know you
have a name although I have never yet said hello

to your hello, held your hands in my hands. And
it is delicious to imagine you have a mountain
you like to climb – that perhaps you sit at the summit

as I am doing now, on my mountain, and you rest
your chin on your knee, watching the valley shiver like
a yellow sea of leaves. You have already wept.

And sorrowed. And mourned. As I have wept.
And sorrowed. And mourned. What have you
lost? What are you going to lose?

Are you are worried I do not exist? Let me
assure you, I exist. I exist. Let me find comfort
in the word you even if you have not yet arrived to fill it.

- Sophie Strand

Comments

  1. Now that's beautiful, and speaks directly to what you were talking about the other day Lance, of all the lives around us just as complex as our own, lives we don't know. I've been meaning to look at some of her poetry, but I'm just too enthralled with the book right now. And I suspect you've noticed that Miriam's story is very similar to Sarah Grimke's story, at least up to about age 13.

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