from Nest by Mei-Mei Berssenbrugge

Mei-Mei Berssenbrugge c/o DMF at synthetic zero

synthetic zero

I want to tell you what’s difficult to admit,

that I left home.

Change of mother tongue between us activates an

immunity, margin where dwelling and travel are

not distinct.

Artifacts throw themselves toward light without

becoming signification.

Telling you is not an edge of the light.

There’s no margin of a shadow to imply interior.

In my childhood house was a deep porch covered

with vines.

Look past our silhouette to silhouettes (like shadows)

of guests arriving in a bright yard.

Light in the next room falls on her, as she bends to

kiss you.

Skylight pours down, then covers the mud wall,

like cloth.

I observe a lighted field seem to hang in space in

front of me.

Speaking, not filling in, surface intent, is a cabinet

of artifacts, comparisons, incongruity.

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Filed under Affect and Ecology, Art, ecologies, Humanities and Ecology, immigration, Refugees

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