Three Variations

Lital Khaikin


Each thing has its own centre so that the infinite, or something close to it,
is written into every part / a pattern

So of the one guilty of these repetitions, I must ask for an impossible reply,
how many variations of you are written into a minor amount of matter?

I know not whether to tear the ground or teach my body to fly so as not to leave too brute an impression with a misdirected pace,
that veers too often and may press too strongly into the lightness of every recurring “here, I am”.

Out of you, I must make a place / now become direction
And must unlearn the code by which gravity toys with desire

the way it deceives with a natural law
that all things arrive to a point decided before the fall

There remains the task of simplifying resistance to the thoughtless ability of causing limb to overcome the metaphysical,
that a course may change in a momentary break in walking,
that a mouth may be fooled by silence as water, full and escaping
through invisible pores.

> > >


this confidence in language [for you to be]

the word, a push, a seeing
[of which being is made]

your appearance is rare /
and your possibility as heavy, as ancient, as relentless
as the urge to scream.

so it is absurd that you may not exist without
that carefully lettered [assurance]
that you must be some defined thing, and may be encompassed in these
small meanings

leave with/out word,               take language with you

and I will continue to imagine a logic around what you might be
giving it [myth] so that it may hide in sound that is irretrievable and
pathetic upon utterance,
that you may take on a primitive shape in the order of lines and their necessary values, that our intersection finally to come to a place

but to keep this silence is [perhaps] a braver refusal
is to lose the symbol in the liminal sea, fundamental and terrible
and ever

these        words with no writing
                 words with no sound
                 words as the unutterable idea

> > >


becomes the way in which the sacred is lost /
to define / an unbecoming
a promise of de                         personalization
un self un place / less one

place through language, otherwise void
between the physics of a body, its laws and anticipations,
and suppositions of a history
memory in bone to retract

the body exists in a silence
so that dreams of flight may come on stone wings.

: : : : :

LITAL KHAIKIN is a writer and editor currently based in Ottawa, Canada. She is a contributing editor and writer for continent. journal. She has poetry published in Berfrois, and essays published in Afterimage and REDEFINE Magazine.