Ursa Minor

by Alexandra Strong

subtle breaths are something i never think about.

a courageous whisper stepping forward, chest puffed out…

it’s beautiful really.

never known, just made and done.

you can apply a lack of rectifying to

sighs moving friendships songs fears growing the feeling you feel when it’s ten pm and you can’t describe it so you just feel it rumble and tumble and turn and become comfortable in the rooms of your body.

i suppose that’s the beauty (glory?) of it that it cannot be rectified to the point that it cannot be recognized to the point that it cannot be resolved to the point that it cannot be described

but even with all that you

know it i

know it i

know it so well that my rooms have pictures of it and my sounds make sounds to convey they are eager to listen to it and dance and sway hips that are lightly paired with ethereal hands that curve and swim through the air.

every so often when i feel it come across my body i realize that it settles into a space,

like petals that fit next to each other not by design but by desire

and it makes me think that if i tilt my head back and open my chest i can take it all in

on purpose whenever i want and maybe that will help me describe it to myself

so that’s what i did and

walking home from dinner tonight i could see all the stars



Alexandra Strong (she/hers): lover of annotations, spotify enthusiast (really a music snob). constantly reminding and remembering to others and myself that blackness sparkles. growing and grateful for the sun. often heard saying “damn, that was a beautiful phrase.” but catch me laughing, it echoes for miles.