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Tuesday
Mar082011

note from editor:

This is love: to fly toward a secret sky, to cause a hundred veils to fall each moment. First to let go of life. Finally, to take a step without feet.” - Rumi

"things we dreamt in the fire— { #radio static as a form of modern blues}" by david tomaloff

I think our secret wants act like ghosts sometimes, scaring us and driving us to wish we didn't believe in them. And then sometimes we do stop believing in them, and that's when our hearts lose sight of what we really want, and that's when we stray farther from the lives we are supposed to be leading. Because it's not easy to change your life, also equally difficult is deciding how to start a poem. Thankfully, I handle both situations the same. What I do is begin with an image that has been haunting me, and then I run towards it. Every new life I lead begins with an image, and every poem of mine lives with ghosts pressed between the pages.

Claudia Lamar, March 2011