Jessica Dillon

I. I dream of the forest...

time rolls on

while I stand still

planted like a tree

I don't want to leave the house

my legs are only concerned

with holding me up

rather than walking me far

I dream of the forest

not how to get there

but being there

being of

simply transformed

the origin of the world

dissolving into detritus

will I give birth, alone,

amidst dead leaves

as a bed

no blanket

but canopy

of stars

the comforts of life

do me no good


I surrender

further more

everything I know I knew

drifts on by

like a cloud

freer than me

planted here

illusion running its own course

I stand I writhe I moan

I encounter only what's inside

let the water run out

let the banks give way

to the pressure they contain

bursting forth

a new river

finds a new direction

reversing the flow

of gravity


I look down

and cannot follow

a descending silhouette

another body

thrusts out at me

asserts its presence

my elastic form

holding itself

against gravity

for now

every effort

a wait

a trial

short bursts, breaths

breasts tell me

the work of what's to come


and sustain

creation is internal

and sustain only drains

heart beats harder



bodily feelings

overflow my cup

so full

brimming over

spilling over

the edge

waiting for the edge

to begin

to die

then begin

as liquid remains

subtly drains

there will be

more room to breathe

to breathe

it drives

and remains

to breathe to seek

to speak to express

to hear to remember

what to carry on


I've felt

the gates of the world

come crashing open

it was unfathomable then

no less

and further to

fathom now

what has passed through

and how

our bodies

are made

to open

and close

these doors

perhaps before

even knowing

it's weight

modern means

sever and allude

keep the veil in place

sometimes for a lifetime




covered and hidden

is what results

to be so lucky

to allow resistance

to guide

an opening

will reveal

what is plain

to see

palpable to feel

to know

in greatest depths

what and how

we came to be

what gift

our little chance

to walk

to feel

to hold

to know

each other