Demi

by Joshua Otto

Everywhere she strolls

lifting ancient tides

 

Seemingly to wait

only to disembark beyond

the least logical terminals

 

She approximates unlikely

ends with a shelled unwillingness of

method repeated as death claims

 

To be a matter of shifting papers  

consciousness become infinitely small

 

Paralyzed by her deafening sleep

a stillness originally meant nothing

 

Before fire was

the mad text of space

 

Called her to care and be

sacred for us