Imogen

Words

There is a fire Deep in the belly of a whale A small lantern waving Casting shadows on rib cages

Breathing and heaving 0h-ho Rocking metal latches Freeing song birds

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The Visitation

I was no more than five years old when I first saw Wolf. She was small like me. Shy. Mostly white. She would hide behind bushes or peek around doorways when I was alone. Only letting me catch a glimpse of her from the corner of my eye. I would pretend to ignore her curious gaze, then swing my face swiftly in her direction to catch it. But all I ever saw straight-on was the blur of her pale fur dancing away.

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Essay On Excess

Today I reflect on excess. Something we each encounter at some point and in some form. Maybe it appears as overindulgence in a consumerist culture that often overlooks it. An addiction at its worst that can consume hours, even lifetimes and ultimately ourselves. Or perhaps the excess is an extreme view or emotion that cannot be regulated. The tendency to overshare and under-listen. Maybe it manifests in taking or giving too much, selfishness versus codependency without any relational balance.

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