I //


I’d known it was coming for a long time, and a longer time still. 

I’d felt the chaos

in amongst the stillness

the stillness in the chaos. 


The separation

the invisible line

that kept me from crossing over and wouldn’t allow me to permeate with the before.


Oil and water splattered the page of my existence.

As much as I yearned for the colours to bleed together, to unite in each brushstroke, the more I dripped




Nothing stayed, nothing was the same.


Desperately grappling at the crumbling clay that had been so solid and sculpted before.

The years of careful creation,

the delicate erosion,

the thawing of the frozen.


Eventually the masterpiece must melt as the light can no longer be kept at bay

its warming presence, deepening the cracks which longed to be discovered.

The drips turn to drops which fail to stop,

the growing puddle purifies the feet, cleanses the body, anoints the head and baptizes the soul.

The spirit in stillness, the body lies in the pool of water. 


I can’t see my face in the reflection, only the light shining back at me. 


II //


I offer you a peek into this




in which I am trying to navigate my



My cuarentena as a fully grown

the cotton wool binds loosen at my ankles.


My feet didn't touch the ground

during that time.


My name ringing faintly in the hollowed caves

it echoed

the footprints that led there only faintly puncturing

the path now.


The unfamiliar beginning to feel familiar

after straddling these entities

neither in its entirety

for so long. 


The embellished veil that brushed my face

that second skin

I allow you to lift it with the grace of floating fingertips

and let it hang past the unwound shoulders.


The tightening clock key unravels anticlockwise

time stays



Vertebrae by vertebrae

the string of candy beads releases

the elastic looses its grip.


Sweetness after suffering

eventually the fruit becomes



III //


In restless, relentless search of the golden key.  Was it in my imagination, was it real?  Perhaps it was just knowing that it it could be which made me feel better.  Comforted.  Believing maybe I wasn’t the only one who longed to find it.  Hold it in my worn and hardened hands.  Dangle it from around my neck, it would rest at my chest.  Weightless. 





Julia Tobin