Frail was to be honored in us
vii.
iteration 2 of part 7 [ Persimmons かき ]
Normal[e] may eat you. With wounded curtain. Out of boredom. Out of fear. Frail was to be honored in us. Somewhere, someone is doing something different. Do you think of this sometimes? Their strong, strong, permeable, broken heart as soft as egg yolk. They look at what is what is what is and they see themselves. Do you remember? What it felt like? “It was an embrace from someone who did not know me.” She says.
Someone I admire burns their ballot. Ash is a pen. What will you write in, after? The sentence that comes after a violent day. Centuries of days. The Great Lie. Mechanism was invented, it is many choices. Another leaf falls onto my chest. Unwavering. I turn to someone I love. For an embrace I don’t know I need. Another book is contested. If I am inside the book, I am contested. Roman Temples aren’t safe in Baalbek. Nor is a baby, or a cat. A word. There isn’t safety in the citadel. God of Wine. We were driving through mountains when he asked me to marry him. A marriage that wouldn’t belong anywhere. This was something we knew, صح ؟ Not even our closest friends could hold it, save one. You told me he said he’d never seen a love like ours. For a brief moment, we were known.
Every word must be inside me before the test, where I can finally let them out. Discomfort! is etched into my desk at school. To run from it would be a mistake. There’s a tree we mumble to at recess, a stump that we jump from, pretending to fly. Detention, so we will learn to obey. A human breaks. The human is made of flesh, of soft.
Sacred is the choice to swallow every fragment, at once, かく言う1、whole. What does that mean?—to be whole? Harsh winds come. A newly made grandfather greets his grandchild for the first time. A blue hat sits on his head. The same color he paints his pottery, calls it ocean. He shows the child his persimmon tree. The child frowns with what could be discernment resting on their brow. I’ve seen the photo, and it made me better. In Japanese, these fruits are called kaki. A neighbor once left a bag of them on my doorstep. Of an orange color. I was hungry and she might have known. They need to be soft before they are eaten. They are high in anti-oxidants.
t h a n k y o u A heartfelt thank you to those who participated in the wishlist from March. Thank you for purchasing something from the list, sharing, and subscribing to Swallow—both paid and free subscriptions.
I am incredibly moved and motivated by your messages and actions, and I want to say thank you for your foundational support. It means the world, and it’s really no small thing. Some of the new subscriptions are from old friends who I haven’t seen in years, some are from people I don’t know personally, who have written such meaningful words. This tender wave of support means more than I can say, and I am truly honored to have your readership. Thank you for being here.
w i s h l i s t w i s h
w i s h l i s t l i s t
w i s h l i s t
The third year anniversary wishlist is still active and open, and though it’s no longer March, I encourage you to take a look at what’s there. If you click on the wishlist button above, you’ll see that some items are “reserved,” which means that this is a gift that I received and have in my possession. This time around, I encourage you to take a look at these gifts and consider buying them for yourself, and/or for others.
Importantly, I hope you’ll take a look at the first gift on the list, the urgent relief fund for Salama and his family, and consider what you’re able to give, or share. Your time and energy is a very valuable thing that you can offer if you’re not able to contribute financially. If you haven’t already, consider following Salama on social media, or checking in on his website if you don’t use social media.
There are ways for us to counter unimaginable and horrific harm amidst our despair. Participating with our humanity means being open to what this looks like for you—(un)learning, rehearsing, healing—strengthening our ability to reach out to one another; to tend, to try—however imperfect.
…If you can donate or even just share the link, you are giving us a chance to live. Every dollar makes a difference. From the bottom of my heart, thank you to everyone standing with us. You are the light in our darkness. — Salama alladaa on April 13th, 2025.
You may have read the previous Swallow entry about Ippei’s painting, A planet where we can see the ocean : 海が見える惑星.
Ippei will be donating all proceeds to Salama’s urgent relief fund. If you know someone who would be interested in purchasing the painting, or if that person is you, please contact Ippei, or myself. We are happy to answer any questions you may have, and happy to hear from you.
Thank you, as always, for being here.
With love and consideration,
Jes
かく言う かくいう kakuiu : in this way