Clay

Each day I dream of moving to Vienna

Each day you dream of bathing in milk

Each day I dream of bus trips and henna

Each day you dream of bathrobes of silk

While you dream of putting down your roots

I pack my bag and lace my boots

While you dream of hardening your clay

I dream of being far away

Each day I dream of travelling far

Each day you dream of staying in bed

Each day I dream of raising the bar

Each day you dream of clearing your head

Promise me you’ll give your dreams a chance

So you can find the inner peace that you lack

And I’ll keep waiting for the circumstance

Which will allow my hardened clay to crack

And whisk me away

To the milky, bustling cities of Austria

Text: John Westlund Art: Ushiri

Will’o’wisps and fairytales strangers

in your eyes, reversed shards
tinted tiny tricks
and my tattered whispers trapped in the Box of words
among letters and your pretty shiny things
baby chameleons in the closet
of course they are always there
playing subtile and kissed stories from a lier
tounges tickling glaring Kaleidoscope
hope in the dept of your wishing well
I live all my episodes alone in soft Hideouts shelters
will’o’wisps and fairytales strangers,
walking my walk talking my talk
vibes and tunes not mine
your moves and chills
and in my bones your cheap thrills
and my ribs like thorns cut sharp through raw flesh

Poetry: Emma Holtze