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Bader Journal

14 February 2018 |1 min read

Our Bodies Under the Sky

renewed skin
never the same trace

gentle sketched sunflowers
weeping in the snow

grazing the walls like evening ballads
floating earth doors

your back to me
an uncovered palace wall

your back on me
an ambulance carrying life

it continues to grow
an invisible history

fringed with strangers
in the measures of a prayer

the red clay hands that hold you
the towering will of hands

the sky and all the livingness in-between
all that protects you is a body

a small wonderland
like a house mixed up in fire-certainty

time oblivious through the window
but abandoned in your limbs

The old sea pier beloved
by the seagulls who dance over it

war on a stage
a winter field in other light

your face a continual electrical trail
where love comes to retire

where love comes to suspend
a bewitched symbol

a gentle stage, undying
a boat in billowing minds

and on the walk home
the child behind you turns on all the lights

all your ruins move closer to my ruins
a whole country and we begin

you by the door
unable to understand the frantic English

the half cut wood you dream to make
a dolls house where we can live

but we can’t go backwards
you cannot step into the same river twice

like the way renewed skin
continues its mystery universe.

Text by: Greta Bellamacina

Illustrations by: Olivia Healy

Poet, actress and filmmaker Greta Bellamacina is the author of Perishing Tame (2016), a meditation on female identity, and editor of Smear (2017), an anthology of contemporary feminist poets.

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