Familiar
mixed digital media and sound
2020
The Familiar series provides a starting point for an ongoing body of work investigating the muddy intersections of personal history and mental health, told through world-building metaphors rooted in architecture and folklore.
permafrost
i unfurl in spite of the cold
pinch the soles of my feet
in thirty-seven rows
with nails i have grown from these fingers
while hammered
i need a better grasp on the ice
will shape these feet into grippers
a brittle
numbing
slippery slope
i am the mother, the son,
the unholy, the most
cryogenically frozen love potion
preserved in permafrost
for future generations
lusting for scraps and glimmer
see it all wash down the falls
these precious hopes, shaken up
naked, bubbly
they plummet
stripped down
cracked open
hungry.
wish me
come to my party
i have a pitch black forest road
rustling leaves
a twig that snaps
we can stare into the dark, scared
of a sweet sudden shock
catapulting us back into mortality.
this time it's different
i have a solid suspicion
that only something kind
could possibly crawl out from underneath these bushes
come at me
mouths full of gasps, camouflage
for the warm bowl of eager anticipation
nestled into the fire pit of the stomach
a golden spoon to slurp the new
a sharpened fork to pin it down.
i wish the plague was over
i found a splinter in my left heel
indistinguishable from a glimmer of hope
or a similarly small but sharp form of love.
i wish waking was tied to a soft shoulder
and a scenic route ahead
sixteen eyes unison, looking, weaving.
i wish there was a fire in danger of dying
embers to blow into
bellows to fill
something strange, yet untroubled about the moon
i wish blankets were so large
our curiosity about where they end
bordered on concern.
i wish there was time to lie down
years pressed to the ground
i wish for time to get lost in tenses
i wish for the kinds of friendships
in which we sew the buttons onto each other's clothes
and walk in tangled paths
built on the unshakable desire
to breathe life into each other
constantly
vigorously
colliding
with care.
i wish i wasn't bothered
by knowing so little
about the ways we multiply the days
i wish i was less tired of subtraction
i wish the leaves rustled
give me a sign if that is you in there
with your glowing eyes, blink twice.
i wish tomorrow was a sapling
digging its roots deep into the earth
cracking open the night
inching forward
following the sound of voices
a glow in the dark
a shift in temperature
a struck chord
to where we sit
laughing.