“after leaving my husband”
Samn Stockwell
Artist Statement: I think if composition nudges towards the truth of something, it necessarily breaks down what came before.
I’m braided to my son.
Everywhere he goes,
I borrow his eyes.
I’m a slow train
of accounts, where he
surveys the past
I severed for him.
I reconstitute mornings
of sunlit breakfasts,
the breeze under crows
stamping on rooftops, and bowls
of peonies on the tablecloth.
Nothing in my past prepares
this present, the generosity
of an alternate world where we
are the treasure it requires.