Awesome work, all of you. This is the latest one I could come up with- it was originally posted in Paper, but it's the only one I have to show for the time being.
Waspmade, handmade, machine.
Sails boats, wings air
flutters to the celebrated ground below.
A reed in Egypt becomes
a read elsewhere.
Priests script of enlightened paths unfolding.
Nations and fingers, races and hearts bleed
Souls burn, as do books
yet volumes speak to minds crumpling.
Drying tears, fibers tear.
Map me, and I will distort the world.
Treaty me, and I will shape it.
News me, and I will reveal it.
Money me, and I will make it spin.
This is how
tea is caged for a diving expedition,
trails aren't lost,
and the honeymooned remember fragility.