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sky depot (for my mum)
by mandy speers
- 2005

walk toward the sky depot where ghosts of days past come to flight once you assign a destination and move on with the razor of yesterday slicing the shadow of a thigh where scabs heal and burst open once again and ooze and weep before the dream of the graft heals forever before the constant infection takes over for it does not belong there so you quielty send it away and it goes on and on towards the stacks of newspapers from yesterday where walls come down and light hurts the face you recognize in the looking glass as smooth as wind blown ice in the dead of winter where i skated and my mum skated and her mother before that and there we were on glitter snow in the freezing cold face to face as best friends with a hidden fort and salamanders in tow yet there was no fast clock ticking to seperate us as we were little ballerinas on a freezing sea scape of hope and pain and forever and we danced and skidded where the others chose not to skid so we skidded faster and it is clear to me now that the ice was clear above the sleeping fishes as we skated around each other during the morning freeze when we both hungered for something warm and searched on the slick cold horizon for a saviour when a spirit came from beneath the ice and asked her to twirl twirl harder than she was able yet her small tiny and fragile mitted hand held on to the ice king and years later he promised a warmth not yet understood but understood it would be when she gloved a tiny hand from the cold and the ice dancers twirl and the fishes swim and the tiny hands are now in grown up gloves the mother before and before her would not recognize as they reflect too much their own those you do not and never needed but wanted and i understand as an ice dancer dancing in front of you my mother my ice king and the keeper of a frozen hand on a bitter cold day i have your hand in my pocket

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