portion of the artwork for Jen Schalliol's poetry

First Step Triolet
Jen Schalliol

I tell myself, breathe.
Believe the passage of air is enough,
that the cells on the surface seethe.
I tell myself, breathe,
as if, inside, I can braid and wreathe
with grounding sediment, oxygens, fluff.
I tell myself, breathe.
Believe the passage of air is enough.


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FRiGG: A Magazine of Fiction and Poetry | Issue 31 | Winter 2011