that doesn’t hold the same shape forever isn’t a failure— this illumination is not an accident. A ring taken off is a soft, yet definite clearness of air where something solid used to be, gentle space redefining its edges. Between us now— bodies that never conceptualize themselves, we allow what is— atoms placed randomly then further apart, orbiting in their quiet pull, moving, not lost. Together or alone, I’m told, we can still close our eyes and see God.
Rebecca Brenner (she/her) is a writer, journalist, and mindfulness meditation teacher. Her work has appeared in TIME, the Los Angeles Times, Tin House, and elsewhere. She serves as president and co-founder of Mindful. Summit County, a nonprofit devoted to mindfulness as a tool for community care, and is active in local LGBTQ+ advocacy and community-building efforts. Paper House is her debut memoir-in-verse—a personal reckoning with the intergenerational impact of addiction, loss, and the enduring bonds that continue.
