What is the shape of death? The texture of pleasure? An earnest understanding of what it means to have something die by your doing? Loved by your everything. Swallowed whole. How does this manifest in the body? The bodies we love so tenderly, so fiercely, the bodies we carry, the bodies we’ve lost. As a poet, maker, and performer, I move across text, object, and gestures, centering the grammar of mourning and desire: the erotics of, the failure of, the ecstatics of.  I tread the field between the ‘o’ of a loss and the ‘o’ of a joy; an attempt to mark the topographies and im/possibilities of bodies and/in/between space. Where are the overlaps in the ways I write about my lover and my mother? I am interested in this push and pull, this uncertainty–a constant contending with the bridge between grief and ecstasy. Are they always already occupying the same space? Do they become each other endlessly?