• Newsletter

Small texts (poetic form)
¬_ written during “Dialogue”/ Residency: Aria Boumpaki, Maya Carroll
Kinitiras Center, Athens/ September 2018

The brunch
the tree
the need to be
I saw the face
the white
one and two and three
The touch to hold

Did you smell to find me?

When the boy started talking,
his voice entered my mouth.
It made me lose my step
and then, there you were- you are.
Luckily, the floor is too soft to embrace my eyes closed.
To hug
to make home
to follow the cat.

Can we take it away from this street?
I enjoy the studio when it’s also a home.

Our dance needs roots
Away from body, we become soil.
Smells and lights and I remember tenderness.

Hard the fruit, soft its heart.
My tears, your juice.

The waves you dived in changed your colour.
White your endings
face as foam.
Blue are your knees and chest.

You are ready to disappear completely
to become a fish
to breath under water
to absorb the salt

Till you ‘re no longer tasty
no longer wanted
till the sea becomes a lake.