Evolving History
When you and I were tetrapods and new to this land,
our first act was demarcation, accidental, but there we were,
on one side of a line in the sand we still carry grains from,
on our bellies, all these years later – the carelessness
with which we flick the silicate away belies a deep unease
between us and the border we created, and each time
we brush the sediment off of our chests, there’s something wet
that we perceive – a trick of sentiment, vestigial cries
from bygone bodies of water, of home, of what we left.
Beeper Peddle is a writer and healer living on the East Coast. She lives with her partner and their beloved soul puppy. Beeper writes about sorrows, lies, and deep loves. When you read her work, you will dip down into her heart and end up in all manner of body parts. Should you find yourself reflected in these words, it is merely coincidence; however, it does not surprise her you share the same heart. Find her at bethpeddle.com and @beeperpeddle on Twitter and Instagram
Thomas Mixon (he/him) has poems and stories in Tiny Molecules, Acta Victoriana, Quarterly West, and elsewhere. He’s trying to write a few books.
Looking for more of Thomas’ work? Check out his poems from Issue 20!
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