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Anything not whole, waiting to be filled. Because on the whole that’s life: waiting. by Benjamin Blackhurst. you’ll have to try, another says. If you’re afraid, it’s okay. Reinforce. Benjamin Blackhurst grew up in California but lives (with a pitiable zero cats) in Utah, where he is a first-year PhD student at the University of Utah. over the redwoods, the skyline, it soars. You’ll never outdo it; of the horizon. We all go mute that high up—some from the chill; An Essay on the Fall. knit caps, sweaters, stockings. All the usual things. Hearts too. Hopes. copper ingots, the beloved. To lean into the updraft, the long oval. telling him to outdo Icarus, to carry all manner of heaviness: hubcaps, It’s about brinksmanship: one man leaning over the edge and another. others, awe. The breath departs. Clean, a winged thing, towering. your wings with wax. Mend them. Mend anything you like, really: old. to be filled, for the right wind, for people to push you and lose their breath as you.