Psychopomp: xemself among the finches’ charm – Sophie Lockwood

The world:

crystalline sky; white 

light; glass enclosure.

The charm. Together,

culture encircling:

syllabic syntax; perfect

control; disciplined

practice. Family,

always. Grandmother

was the first victim of the Trauma we cannot predict, xe cannot stop:

prism bars.

darkling stimulus.

the glass-walled world became the latent encagement of light and color inversion,

xe thought we were each dying, all the charm, but only Grandmother:

purple flesh; stone

flesh; jade flesh.

no generational shattering,

only blank fire. Hotly, just

once. Once, and again, and

each time we lost another. Our charm, xyr family, dying off, the world a trap:

Grandfather. Sister. One

by one. A loss building,

until the prism light called xem, and xe felt in xyr feathers a refusal to die. To lead, to throw

xemself forward: bodily collision, glassing

hope. but only a tumble.

Traumatogenic light; whirling-

eyes; angel’s fingers. slipping, only: a crack

the size of a dream.