by Rachel Pak ’18
Somehow, we’re contained—wrapped in individual marbles of
hair and skin-
-muscles and memory.
Over there, I see a Cat’s Eye.
Here, an Agate.
And never did I think I could meet these others.
We roll relentlessly,
regardless of those who come
whizzing out of the gaping
vacancy of space
with the crash of isolated universes colliding.
Over there, I see a Shooter.
Here, a China.
But never did I believe I could approach these others.
Spinning wildly, shot across the circle of my days,
The marble that is you knocks out all the others
—the Lutz—the Mica—the Indian Swirl—
Until now, never did I dream I could touch my other.
And somehow,
momentum carried us onward,
our shoulders and our breath-
-our muscles and our memories
slipping past the other’s.
You glanced off me,
whizzing into the
gaping
vacancy of space.
