Words by Willa Umansky PZ ’27
Graphic by Sam Condren PZ ’28
The face of the deep, splattered
through the terrain of mini mountains that mock
the cavernous desertscapes that confine them.
Some mystical entity beckons
the sullying of sandy colored sediment, further
dragging it away from its provenance.
The notable genesis site—
dark, abysmal, presumably holy.
Edges unsure—
hesitant to declare themselves in their wavering sanctity.
A divine spark,
the breath of life,
a spill from the hand of the righteous creates a confidence.
Catching like fire, spreading like gospel.
Limits are for those who mourn shapes that briefly form.
Bound to their grief, bound to the tangible.
I’d weep for the vague whale that was
for just a moment.
But I’d weep forever.
The sun degrades the limitless to nothing, freeing the liberated.
Author
Discover more from Newsprint Magazine
Subscribe to get the latest posts sent to your email.