The poem small and hard in its shell carried many otherwise possibilities. We wrote each other a seed every day that summer. There is someone I grew up with who laid out in the sun the seed of every fruit she had eaten – hoping to grow fruit again – to fill the space where the pumpkin she had watched grow            become another growing spot for some other crop as she rotated the soil. In rotation, the soil needs movement to be a space of support for the seeds that it eases to growth. Movement as facilitation of love – because what the soil gives the seeds is love. The soil is in the movement of things,      just like the sun that rotates counterclockwise – in the orientation of being counter, there is a path that carries the unexpected encounter.

Movement        rotating     in    pace        counter time        birthing tongue

something in the rotation is carried in the soil is carried in the sun is carried in the cycles of photosynthesis, is carried around in the leaves, flowers, and fruit.

coming back to no particular beginning as there is no beginning only rotations of gestures with no top or bottom just verses – meaning to turn – to turn and turn turn turn turn turn turn the potato eye facing up – turn turn turn turn till the flat bean rests in your hand – turn turn turn turn the radish leaves that you will fry in a pan with butter, salt, pepper and plum wine vinegar… turn turn turn turn turn turn

Kondo Heller (they/them) is a poet, writer, and experimental filmmaker. They approach the filmmaking process as a poet and focus on layering and unfurling to articulate memory, resonance, and language. Their photography is similar in that they are a poet who takes photographs to articulate in a visual language. They are currently an MFA in Poetry candidate at Cornell University.