239: Having Read Brian Dillon

I like a good list. One that winds. Turns. Comes back around. Ends where it starts.

Only to say that it doesn't end. It leaps. One room up, diagonally to the left. The object in the corner. What is it? It hides like love in a pining reader. Like fury in a gentle mother. It eludes us, a shadow at the edge of our vision.

Can only be defined between one point and the next. In the white space.

We draw with our mind's eye. We think we have it. Grasp it. Seize it.

Empty.

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Written by: Katrine Hjulstad

Instagram: @katrinehjulstad

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Publisher's note: All poetry published with Eudaemonia Records has been viewed and commented on by our editors. Ultimately, however, we believe that it is the writer's decision to accept or reject any suggestions made by the editors, and therefore take no responsibility for the final product.