The Open Fracture of the Voice are poems written in the darkness. In its depths, where everyone is alone with themselves and doubts their own strength, their voice, and the possibility of the future. This is the point of the sharpest pain, the undermining of all the knowledge we have had about the world and ourselves. But these are also poems that move toward the light. Because it is the knowledge of its existence somewhere outside, above, that makes this progress possible. These are poems of restlessness and growth, of wind and homelessness, of searching for and protecting one's own, of fatigue and stubbornness. Sprouts of the new that you cover with your palms. The promise of a bright harvest that you want to live to see.