two sticks have crossed over her
two sticks are leaning over her
two sticks come to a point above her
two hands meet at a point
two hands hover over her own—
meet at a point
what has she spilled from the hands
a haired root drags itself upward
leaves settle at the floor of the river
a mouth leaves the floor wide open
a set of three fingers drags through water
a worm moves by setting itself against leaves
a worm on a stick looks over, reveals
she pushes shapes from her mouth
sticks have crossed it over
leaves have crossed it over
hands hover in a dome
a hooked hand holds water
her hands meet along the floor
hold the floor to the mouth
hold the mouth to the river
a set of three drag themselves through water
a hooked hand holds a bird
may a worm open into herbs
a root grows hairs along the floor
a root sheds its hairs into the water
to return to the same place later
the worm hooks its hairs above her
what has she spoiled in the mouth
a hooked hand holds in the mouth
not even a light beam marks a straight line
she is absorbed into the surface
she is scattered along the surface
the worm hooks itself in the floor
water from the river hovers over
may a bird shed a dome of wet shapes
such herbs make roots in the floor
such herbs will last her most of winter
she makes a dome over
she hovers in a circle over
her hands meet at a point over
her feet meet at a point
a worm is absorbed into the surface
light is scattered like hands
a surface is a set of spilled shapes
a haired worm drags itself upward
two hands come together in a dome
a bird vomits shapes into another
herbs drag in curves toward water
a set of three scatter on the river
a mouth leaves its worms bit open
what has she spelled on the surface
a needle moves in and back out slowly
a needle marks a worm curled above her
a red ball begins its slow tap.
top of the skull. base of the head. back of the tongue.
I pause, and where my lips were, I press in two fingers.
I bring a world together and apart between my fingers.
a red ball comes from between my fingers—
what has she spilled from her hands.
a haired root drags upward.
leaves shuffle at the floor of the river.
a set of three fingers drags water.
a worm around a stick looks over.
a hooked hand holds water.
hold the floor to the mouth.
hold the mouth to the river.
a hooked hand holds a bird.
may a worm open into herbs.
she pushes shapes from her mouth.
a root sheds its hairs into the water.
to return to the same place later.
the worm hooks its hairs above her.
what has spoiled in the mouth.
a hooked hand holds in the mouth.
she is absorbed into the surface.
she is scattered along the surface.
a worm hooks itself into the floor of her mouth.
water from the river hovers over.
before falling over.
light scatters like hands.
one bird vomits shapes into another.
a surface is a set of spilled shapes.
what has she spelled on the surface.
a needle moves in and back out—
goodbye, goodbye.
get back get back get back get back get back get back. come.
back home back home back.
unpack unpack unpack unpack unpack. come.
beckon beckon.
can and can and can and can and anca anca anca anca. on.
come on come on come on come on come on.
come home come home come hokum hokum.
mamma mamma mamma mamma mamma.
home backhome backhome backhome.
unbag unbag, gone home.
undone undone, a nondin.
ondin ondin.
nothing nothing gone then gone then.
done and done, undone undone.
and on and on and on and on and.
Jessica Comola is a poet and multimedia artist whose work examines notions of embodiment and disability. Her first book, Everything We Met Changed Form and Followed the Rest, came out from Horse Less Press in 2016. She earned her PhD from the University of Denver and is currently completing her second book manuscript, Text/iles: A Poetics of Disorder. More of her work can be found at jessicacomola.com.