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if talking
about voice

there is

the grain of it

that which nourishes
and cracks, details

and textures

a pane

rings upon rings

resound, repeat


to hear language

how it enters the senses

silent thoughts


horizon shifts


echo terrain




winds of selves/

     sounds of waves)



Poet note: The image was made by abstracting the letters of the word 'voicings'.

Go to Ella Skilbeck-Porter's profile to read more poems