Poetry from the Pointed Circle: Float Tank Ting by Amelia Shelly

By Pointed Circle|November 27, 2017Student Writing|

There is still salt

in my ear

from the manufactured oceanic womb



my body

trembled and shook

as an animal                             escaped the predator

of mind or under over matter.


My body, this thing, unwinding. Changing rhythm

to acknowledge what balance feels like.

Each constellation of embedded memory

finding its place in space to echolocate

the                                           Center of it all

ever changing orbits

Earth wobble

Cerebral spinal fluid pumping into

forgotten places i.e.anywhere

not my head or eyes or cunt

New breath into the thigh feather petals

see saw hips rocking in reverse, back

-tracking the tension

placed upon those lands, misused and overlooked.

Onto the floor again, compressed and

trembling still free

hitchhiking chi

going all the places it was told

were off limits


This land

is my land

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