'Poems and photographs by Shannon May Powell.
'"This frequently uncertain text
does not invoke what is fixed
'but instead the sensation of momentarily brushing
against something corporeal and amorous
'a gesture given in passing to what has seduced,
coerced or momentarily given the impermanence of delight.
“Here is a moment… I drink it liquid from the shells
of my hands and almost all of it runs sparkling
through my fingers.”
— Clarice Lispector"
