photo from Unsplash
Content Warning: blood, dark themes, death, mental health, suicide
The Descent of Portals The black veil of the eclipse, the way my body was taken, if this house was empty, the rushing of silver atoms – I feel the impact of stars or I am being drowned like a blue fish, disguising old hope in a tunnel; how many more years of this, whose cold debris to adorn – tear out this portal for this curse the roof will break – the palace trails the light, I count each spark ferried from space, the quietness, how it suffers the weight of air – all the while I can still think, and more and more – this is a trick, I never surrendered to be a witch. Chappell 1811 to your insides if I prised you open of blood and ribs a blunt-hammered signal birds mimic your bare feet gathering roots I have forgotten the paper it is no use if you were parched wood strings and tones falling out of minor I weep for time to wring it loose Myth is Your Reflection Your mother doesn't understand the darkness, so you roam the frail earth, hunting – the moth wraps its echoed wings to the night silk in desolation, to pull you from the labyrinth as far as the hawk’s vermilion sun you think you are the only flesh that wants to be stitched back to the cave, to mercilessly plummet the aphotic, drown the mortal ocean, until you are empty, of nebulous atoms, of longing – do not mistake him for your shadow, you sharpen the knife your blood is a cauldron for an orb of blue chimaera, feathers of life, you have made yourself into the moon myth is your reflection. Bio: Louise Mather is a writer from Northern England and founding editor of Acropolis Journal. Nominated Best of the Net 2021, and a finalist in the Streetcake Poetry Prize, her work is published in various print and online literary journals. Her debut pamphlet ‘The Dredging of Rituals’ is out with Alien Buddha Press, 2021. She writes about ancestry, rituals, endometriosis, fatigue and mental health. Twitter @lm2020uk