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Olivia Louise was born in the pacific northwest but grew up online. She currently lives in Berlin and tweets at @rockbottom4ever.

2 poems by Olivia Louise


I watched my mother live
I was a young man, who was very attractive.
We were married. I dug soil. I made a living with my hands.

Out of everything I made, our marriage between us was the only beautiful
thing I could give back to her.

She said, inside me is a small daughter. I love her more than you.
I wore a pregnancy vest to feel closer to the both you. I filled it with peat

She said, it’s not quite the same.

It was an uneasy marriage.
In the end, we stayed together because this is a business.
A family business.

I watched my father die.
He was like brecciate jasper
loaded into a barrel for aggressive tumbling.

A man who went to all that trouble just to be stone and round.
He had always said that he can not remember a time when there was not time.

But we went to a timeless place, when we died.
We saw a woman collecting small pebbles on a beach.
She placed them into the inverted belly of her shirt. It sagged as it grew heavy.

We were enchanted by the beauty of
my mother and her stones. 


The screen is an object. But in this object, you may exist.

You may exist and you may appear as you want to be. Look inside. You are there, in the screen, where you want to be.

The screen is just an object and I am a part of it. I am a screen and nothing else. I am how I want to be seen and nothing else.
You see me and you want to see me.

The screen is just an object, but you love this object.
I am the screen to you, and nothing else.
You love me. 

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