[I saw how, once connected, we made a shape]

I saw how, once connected, we made a shape

and the shape had a name though not 

in a language we know, which is different

from a language one speaks. A language one 

speaks has form. A language one speaks 

has body, or at least a mouth, a throat, the palatal.

A shape with a speechless name can occur

anywhere. Like an airplane. Like an airplane

window seat with the shade tossed up somewhere

over Greenland. Like 40,000 feet into the middle

of the night. Like the humane tap of a stranger—

it is at first startling to be awoken until it becomes

clear that the plane is surrounded by the Northern Lights. 

The green of finger bones held to the sun. And brightness 

like something set free after being buried alive. Yes. I saw 

how, once connected we made a shape, and there were more of us

then there were not. Like a continuous, flyover land mass

or a black cat chasing her tail against a white wall. Just 

to see herself. A shape against shapelessness. A statement

against or for object impermanence. Something like something

which is like something else. See what good language does?

---

July Westhale is a poet and translator born in the American Southwest. Their books include moon moon, Trailer Trash, Unmade Hearts, and Via Negativa, which Publishers Weekly called "stunning" in a starred review. Ocean Vuong chose Westhale as the 2018 University of Arizona Poetry Center Fellow. Their translation of the Chilean poet Rolando Cardenas' collected works was selected for the 2026 Unsung Masters Series (forthcoming from Pleiades Press). They have work in McSweeney’s, DIAGRAM, The National Poetry Review, Prairie Schooner, CALYX, Hayden’s Ferry Review, and The Huffington Post, among others. July is represented by Carolyn Forde at Transatlantic and lives in Tucson, where they are adapting their novel to film. www.julywesthale.co