Here I Am
by Kleopatra Olympiou
We spent the past hour bending, unbending, opening up our bodies, and now we’re lying on our yoga mats for savasana, and the instructor says to breathe deep and let go, and my mind peels back the pastry folds of time and brings me to the beach on the northwest side of the island, fifteen and doing a star float in the twilight, ears underwater, the world muted except for the hiss of waves pushing pebbles up the beach, the swishing of my heart pumping blood, a V of geese crossing the sky, the world saying this is who you are, arms and legs outstretched, open, and I remember a classmate in P.E. who thought that everyone says namaste because it means “here we are” in Greek, and though I laughed at the time, I found it kind of beautiful, so when the yoga instructor bends forward and bows and says namaste, I say it too, all the while thinking here I am, here I am, here I am.
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BIO
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Kleopatra Olympiou is a writer from Cyprus. Her writing has appeared in swamp pink, Tiny Molecules, HAD, Raw Lit, Flash Flood, and elsewhere. Her work has been shortlisted for the Bridport Prize for Flash Fiction and nominated for Best of the Net. She currently lives in London. Find her at kleopatraolympiou.com.
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SOCIAL MEDIA
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