There are lots of things that I could describe in this way – family, friends, books – but given the date my choice was easy. It’s three months exactly until our wedding, so I thought I would post a poem about our upcoming marriage.
after Marcel Duchamp and Octavio Paz
Outside the station, you juggle gravity,
so when we step onto the platform
it opens out to rails made of matches
soaked in fresh green paint.
The train sets off as though shot
from a cannon. I hear its cogs and springs,
the clockwork straining to keep up
with our direction of travel; it’s been wound
beyond its litany’s pace and theme.
The centrifugal force of our meeting
rips my rain-mask from me. You
give me a glass skin
in which I cocoon myself
like a caterpillar noctuelle.
Your glass is the only thing strong enough
to withstand my tongue of solid flame.
Within my new epidermis, I slow life;
grow into a dusk-dusty mariée.
Image: Us. Photo by my Mum. We were all laughing so hard about something or other that she couldn’t quite focus.
‘Bride’ was first published in The Aesthetica Creative Writing Annual 2012.
Previous blogsplashes for Satya’s books are filed under her former name, Fiona Robyn.