Shane Neilson | SACRED TECHNICIAN

The little body, washed; cleaned; swaddled; transferred from broken hand to broken hand to crib— I write in sadness as authentication, but this act is not sacred. What is sacred: the little body of finite breath independent from me, frantic on its own rhythm. I listen as Technique to confirm the child is not dead,…

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***Select excerpts of 19:2 can be read online for free. To read the entire issue, purchase a subscription or a single issue.
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