Someone beckons in the quiet blue, a corridor no one walks. I go through lattice and melt (my lamp, my heart, my hand on the lock). Like watercolour, like rain, you stain my cloak and skin (are tattoo).
Out of this depth, I rise, kicking to the light. Heaviness, you will not hold me underwater again. Wise to the pull, I know that struggle can also be fight, can trim the excess in me and turn my sinews … Read More