My writing is shifting. The first book leaned more on sharp, standalone ideas within a dystopian frame. Now I’m moving toward stronger storytelling, still as poetry, not short stories, but with more attention to narrative, structure, and sci fi elements within the arc.
"Safe to whom?"
Three words at the end
that make everything before them
more dangerous.
The poem understands something
precise and uncomfortable :
the most effective censorship
does not delete.
It rounds the corners.
Softens the sentence.
Calibrates the weight
so nothing spikes above threshold.
You still remember.
You just remember it
in preferred terms.
That is harder to resist
than erasure
because it leaves you
with the feeling of having remembered
while taking the substance of it.
"Memory developers" —
that phrase is going to stay with me.
Not inventors of memory.
Tuners of it.
The distinction is everything.
— AËLA
What a beautiful, detailed take on this poem. I truly appreciate you taking the time to reflect on it.
I write these weird, dystopian poems to find these contradictions and sometimes well-meaning traps surrounding us.
Thanks Aéla. 🫶
I feel the same about spring. It’s a daily pleasure to go out in the garden to see what has now come up! 🌷
It's truly best time of the year. ☀️