Origami by Abigail Weathers

I unfold
the train car,
the bar,
review each crease.
Their origami
a reverse map
to that first intention.

Was it here
I turned wrong?
Or here?
A crimped line
sears through the earth.

At what point
did I begin to fold
myself
into small shapes?
At what point
did their hands decide
my most beautiful form
was a stiff
and silent crane?


Abigail Weathers is a teacher and copy editor living in Beijing, China. A member of the Spittoon Literary Collective, she facilitates the Spittoon Poetry Workshop and serves as a poetry editor for Spittoon Monthly. She loves many things, including puzzles, biking around Beijing, and drawing and painting birds. Her work appears or is forthcoming in A Shanghai Poetry Zine, Sky Island Journal, and SAGINAW.

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