The fovea centralis is a small depression in the retina that produces our sharpest vision. In this keenly perceptive chapbook, Sarah Lasoye ruminates on moments from the playground to the present day. Sitting across from her early memories, she begins to discern the watery contours of a primary self. Through abstract and narrative poems, Lasoye’s temporal experiments open up a tender interior life and a need to anchor oneself in others. With no clean boundary between past and present, emergent preoccupations—with selfhood, goodness and want—persist and reappear. This compact collection keeps to itself—an inquisitive, personal contemplation on childhood and growth.