In the palm of your hand you have
returned her to the open air,
our vanishing dunes rinse
the fetus doppel [prone to juicing]
It could be like squeezing berries
You tell yourself an orchestra of things
What it means to share how vast
the playgrounds felt in the dark
The reality of their inactivity
after leading such a viral life
now trapped in a square of memory
Each alert or notification is a cruel addiction
You ask yourself an orchestra of things
What if you don’t log in for a couple weeks
and avoid scaling down the endless well of grief—
When is it okay to unfriend the dead?

Kris Hall is a writer and event coordinator for Ogopogo and Da’daedal from Seattle, WA. Author of the chapbooks Dillinger on the Beach (Horse Less Press) and Notes for Xenos Vesparum (Shotgun Wedding). He has been featured in Drunk in a Midnight Choir, DREGINALD, The Monarch Review, Pismire, and theEEEL.

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