Bird Cento

By | 11 May 2026

I lose my breathing
and bird, what do you see?
A monument to nothing, the outline of an ear,
a wheel suggesting a swaying terrace.
There is nothing worth salvage in this city,
this country has no exit visas.
Part of me is still back there,
tracing old paths,
holding in layers and layers.
I am eating dirt, drinking it
until you see me standing empty-handed in the sunlight.
I’m an electric girl. World’s my oyster.
I came to explore the wreck.
I breathe differently down here.
I’m its pearl, gold star hidden.
Words are purposes, maps:
so noisy, so beautiful.
In all this patchworking,
I breathe differently
and plunge empty-handed into the sunlight.
Soon you will leave, I will go unnoticed and
borders will blur behind the lines on my forehead.


Sources: Adrienne Rich, Ania Walwicz, Alison Flett, Cate Kennedy, Edmond Jabès, Audre Lorde, Sarah Holland-Batt and Quinn Eades.

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