Eliot's Creed
Adora Williams has degrees in Journalism and Languages and writes poetry in Portuguese and English. She lives in a historic region of Brazil. Her poetry anthology, Mulher Poesia, in Portuguese, is being published in Brazil and Portugal in December 2022. You can find her on Twitter, Instagram, and Substack.
Editor’s note: View this piece on desktop for the best reading experience.
Are my beginnings where it
ends (1)
Are all beginnings endings and the other way
around
Is everything anything else
Time is a watch
I’ve been watching the orbit of a lost star
and calculating
relatively to my dubious perception
when
the imprint of its light that has already
died will point to the spot where a bird
died in the top wire
in front of my house where kids fly kites to/for angels (2)
A place much older than me with its own history and I
made it mine when I arrived with a lost innocence and a pocket of dying will
tired and yearning to try again
Time doesn’t really heal and when
you spend too much time in the outer world becomes too much space (4)
If my walls were made of wood
perhaps I’d be comfortable
with vulnerability
And (3) the wind would crash it
And there would be another crack in the barrier
And the sun would probably burn every lasting structure I cherish
And the water would invade it
create life in it
And the walls would expel me
Someone else would make it their own
When they lost everything the end
and all begins
- - - - - -
(1) My beginnings could have been located where it ends
My beginnings could have been when it ends
Isn’t it sweet that where and when can be just the same thing?
(2) When I’m doing something to someone, I’m also doing it in their place
We are but a reflection of a random action happening sixty degrees opposite to us, amplified
(4) Space and time were once the same
Before we took over, the sound was also
(3) this conjunction was the
one responsible
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