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I am no longer what I heal
Published online, August 2025.
Excerpt from This place that I am which eludes me.
there was a time
when I spoke to mend
when every word was a stitch
clumsy
too tight
now
I speak from outside
I no longer aim for the wound
I no longer call it
by its name
I no longer have a name for it
what I have left
what I still carry
in places
the pain has shifted
it has lodged itself in the past
like a piece of furniture that is no longer moved
but that one knows
with eyes closed
i am no longer what i heal
I am what emerges from it
what continues
what still leans
I no longer wait for the end
I have passed through it
it did not close the door
it left the light
and the folds
I look at myself through
what I have stopped seeking
and I see another body
not new
not old
a body
pierced by passage
that walks
I have not healed
I have molted
I have made room
what I heal
lives elsewhere
under another name
perhaps
without a name at all