Divisions
It is not always easy to divide a whole,
take the heart, its shape doesn’t allow
for it to be evenly cut in two.
My right hand is not a mirror of my left
the brain is tied by twisting chords to each
differently swirling fingertip.
Prime means one thing to Einstein another to Picasso
yet each disassembled the universe only to reassemble it
amidst cubes and circles, reasons and lines.
We are relative only to each other
my fingers to your hand, my eyes to your chin
the bend of my knees to the back of the chair.
Where is the pause where collision makes sense
the respite when nothing is divided by anything else
the moment we are made whole by the parts of ourselves.
Shana Ritter writes poetry and prose and pieces in between. Her chapbook, Stairs of Separation, is available from Finishing Line Press and her poetry and short stories have appeared in numerous magazines. Shana just received a grant from the Indiana Arts Council to support work on her novel about the Jewish diaspora from Spain in 1492. Her blog, Word by Word can be found at shanaritter.wordpress.com
Stairs of Separation is available from Finishing Line Press: https://www.finishinglinepress.com/product/stairs-of-separation-by-shana-ritter/
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