Hello internal assembly team.
I am un-singular today in this rash of faces.
I sense the careful in me trolling.
An itch welling at the crown.
My shadow: no. yes. fast. approximate.
Operations make up your mind. I’m a looped syllable.
A white point diving and rising all over the map.
Inside, the self complains about duplicate selves.
One self looks out over another
and perceives a you.
ravenous, on-a-roll, exception-
to-the-rule self—they all
dance wildly on the edge of a blanket
the self wants to lie down on
in a meadow with someone else.
Art by Evie Lovett
Sara Michas-Martin is a poet and nonfiction writer who draws inspiration from science and the natural world. She is a lecturer in Creative Writing at Stanford University, and has also taught writing and interdisciplinary studies for the University of Michigan and Goddard College. Specific teaching interests include contemporary American poetry, science communication and hybrid forms.