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Lara Schoorl

By September 26th, 2020No Comments

a fragment from Copper Stories


humor me


do you want me to

spill my fluids


so that you can read

my mind like a book

& taste my body like

peaches, and other

seasonal fruit,



I will lick my fingers for you, but I can’t

make them stop moving––


the atoms vibrate,

you know

that, we all know



so, will you check my frequency?


will you check the arch of my back when you enter me, and then the curve of my ass pressing into your groin?


do you think I have a split mind?


split mind

double half,


tied in part to the heart, in part to the brain because we (= you + I (or something between our
selves)) all know that the mind is however softly attached to the body. Licking the flesh.

lining               why

upon seeing these two words, because I misread my own handwriting, do I choose one over
the other?


what points to the touch of our soul?


when language becomes omnipresent


and the world of

objects falls away


is there a word for the full nothing of Zurbarán’s black backgrounds, or Kay’s dream depths?


blue sigh

a let go

pulled back


part way, half a


a close


finger to eyebrow

following your            face lines



we are a touch

which is your body

the one side of your face

(one of many)


is also my body

I am rendered through your body

am outside myself,

in need more to be alone


to not disappear




slowly unfold

to refold


to not reveal


to rope parts of my soul as the world keeps spinning


as your heart keeps pumping

as your mouth keeps breathing


como tu corazón sigue amando

como tu boca sigue amando



often the difference between layers is indistinct, they are not meant to differentiate but to
hold––sometimes all of us. The sediments of Earth. When you look at the stars and believe in
their light, you believe in a current history. The past is ever now. It is a matter of moving
through instead of to things, coiling a memory


a mind sense


think of our fingers entwined

no space in between

though still at a distance

moving through & becoming between skin, sex, the unspoken, good sins, a
sense of self welded by someone else


moving as multitude of being human.






Photo by Isabella Rozendaal

Lara Schoorl is a poet, curator and art historian from the Netherlands and lives in Los Angeles. She is the publicity manager at The Green Lantern Press in Chicago and works at the Museum of Jurassic Technology and Hat & Beard Press. Her recent writing can be found in The Conversant, The Huffington Post, Tique Art Paper, University of Arizona Poetry Center Blog, The Los Angeles Review of Book, and the anthology Sisternhood. She is a co-author of the end of may.