REVOLUTION XXI Poem by Lies Van Gasse

This morning when, after years, I emerged,
my hair was wet,
scales grew beneath my arms.

Heat lingered on the skin
like a false note.
The chrysalids lay exposed.

Maggots nibbled at my fingers,
and growing took time.

When my eyes also opened,
up came the sun. Toads were suddenly silent.

I felt almost sorry.

There was a curtain blocking my view,
and my fins stuck.

I had learned nothing, but this spring
gave me dead branches and a soft marsh.
This was all I needed.

I thought that even the biggest fish
suck pain, that the softest land is sailable.

I thought that where the ends meet,
nothing means a thing anymore.

There are strange currents in us,
that drag us into peaks and troughs,

but after years of sluggishness we swiftly overflow.

We sail toward the end.
Hunger pulls.

I am a mast that picks up words,
the ropes hard, but tight.