Lauren Marie Capello

Not forearm, nor finger,
But the joint parts, those
Places heal hardest, where
A wound, gaping to open, then
Heal again in every stillness,
As silence, mends itself in sounds,
As sounds grow fibers to reach
The next silence,

It is torn by the next movement, a
Scrape to slice slightly less
Deep, to open slightly less
Wide, to force out what
Remains impure, to clean
Itself in its perpetual

Language is like that.


Lauren Marie Cappello eats dessert for breakfast. Aside from performing her poetry at a variety of local venues, she teaches yoga, and is working to achieve her B.A. in Creative Writing with a Dual Minor in Psychology and Secondary Education at CUNY CSI.