Inherent Movement
by Flora Valeska Woudstra ︎︎︎thinking of the mother of mothers,
mending, salt. waves, polluted and
clean –– harsh waves and all the
sounds that travel through her body,
her bodies (of water). all that swims,
floats, drowns, grieves, gasps for air
in, through her large, wild, majestic hands.
holding rage, holding red algae, the flesh,
bones, breaths of many, breaking and breaking again.
then mending, or trying. all these reparative gestures
and yet ——
this shipwrecked knowledge of living in today’s world,
today’s body.
