How

By Sophia Leat

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Written with the intensity of the Russian dialect, interact with the uncertainty of a calf's first steps.

What suit to follow remains unbeknownst to me,  so I lean into the desire of feeling.

I blink and blink and blink,  though I cannot seem to rid my eyes of the remnants of my emergence

— it has managed to remain unwavering ambiguity.

My presence as uncomfortable and unavoidable as gastrointestinal issues

 — as a concave mirror my focal point remains undiscovered.