portion of the artwork for Lauren Camp's poetry

How Can We Live Since Everything Will Certainly Change
Lauren Camp

We sat in her bed and I watched her not
shaking but guttered and assembling her hands to her
hands, wrapping her hands to the sound of the tricks of

         her mind. These days the room
         of the mind all the time never blinking beyond. What I mean by
         passing through story again is to tell you the clock racked

impossible envies. Click click and family and we confuse
everything and horoscope night. When hours finally blanketed
our knees, when the small mammals of the house were done

                  licking and barking and laid down, then my
                  mouth held the bent pause. Minutes whistled and settled one
                  behind the other—

                  What we told her is only half of a house and every

                                                     night we told her walk through

                                                praising and praising and seeking

                  each point of light to light       the will which is how

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FRiGG: A Magazine of Fiction and Poetry | Issue 57 | Spring/Summer 2021