a théimid ar an de chríoch neamhshubstaintiúla. Táimid i mbun oibre le ceo
Bá Chionn an Ghabha
Iúil 2015
Beatrice Jarvis
Ceol ag Akira Kosemura
Téacs ag Virginia Woolf
We melt into each other with phrases.
We are edged with mist.
We make insubstantial territory.
Everything became softly amorphous, as if the china of the plate flowed, and the steel of the knife were liquid.
Meanwhile the concussion of the waves breaking fell with muffled thuds, like logs falling, on the shore.
what if this moment were to stay forever.
The waves broke and spread their waters swiftly over the shore. One after another they massed themselves and they fell; the spray tossed itself back with the energy of their fall. The waves were steeped deep blue save for a pattern of diamond pointed light on their backs which rippled as the backs of great horses ripple with muscles as they move. The waves fell, withdrew and fell again, like the thud of a great beast stamping.
How does light return to the world to the world after the eclipse of the sun? Miraculously. Frailly. In thin stripes it hangs like a glass cage. There is a spark there. Next moment of a flash of dun. Then a vapour as if earth were breathing out for the first time.
And in me too the wave rises. It swells: it arches its back. I am aware one more of a new desire.
I am quite alone, here, for the first time.
Urban re:passages 