Seasick

The Last Star of Amastris

On my tongue is a name that I cannot quite hear,
as I come to, bewildered, but given to rise
when the light comes in.
Like sifting through a bag full of knives for a crown,
it’s been so long that I can’t tell which face is mine.

The widow comes down to confess,
and says, “my blood is diamonds.
The Door is on fire
and you’re on the wrong side.”

Like riddles we are hanging and adorned
in countless tiny flames.
She’s dropping stones into sweetmilks,
then stitching into ribbon
the balance of having been wont to succumb
to the will and the reach of the fire in the face
of the man in the old hollow sun.

The mountain comes down to confess,
and says “My blood is diamonds.
We all came in through the same hole,
and we all sleep in the same bed.”
I pull a stone from the ground
and fix it to the wind, having seen them
haunt and belong to the well, out of reach.
It’s gone cold, and I am glad.

The world changes shape and disguise,
and we wait for the taste to dissolve into nothing.

I open the jar
and dead moths fly out.
I fall out of painted holes
and we laugh and we laugh,
until the both of us are seasick
and we up sticks and ride.
We’re under a black spell again.

I pull the same stone out of the ground again,
and fix it to the wind,
having been to the gallows where portions
are sewn into uneven rows.
We’re under a black spell again.

Written By Rain Fice
Performed and engineered by Rain Fice & Nicholas Wowk,
in Bancroft, Ontario and Haliburton, Ontario, respectively,
December 2020 - January 2021

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