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1. |
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every night, the thread of a song
slips out from under your door
while I am slipping, sleepy
it tucks me inand I am the strings
beneath your fingers
wound and taught
the cause of your calluses.
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2. |
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come stand before me
your shape like coloured glass
the light that moves through you
a geometric dance
that forms, and breaks apart
into a million feelings
that have no names
and a thousand languages
no tongues can ever tame
they shift around our bodies
come stand before me
your shape like coloured glass
the world I see through you
is a perfect changing thing.
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3. |
1-3 Dandelion
01:13
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“Pick a feathery head of dandelion, charge the little feathers with a tender thought, turn to the spot where the loved one dwells, and blow, and the seed ball will carry the message faithfully.”
- Encyclopaedia of Superstitions, Folklore and the Occult Sciences of the World
my breath sends
the feathers across
the grey and blocked up city
where they find you
in all the corners of your day
and tell you
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4. |
1-4 Hummingbird
05:36
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“For the Mayans, hummingbirds were the sun in disguise, constantly attempting to seduce the moon.”
- Birds: Myth Lore and Legend
she slips into bed
waits until the sky is dark
then she slips out again
covers her moon-pale skin with feathers
bright like christmas foil
up she darts on beating wings
silver green against the stars
flashes her lovely slenderness
across his crescent smile
but he is not moved
he is not moved
he is not moved, so she darts away
she slips into bed
as the sun begins to rise
then she slips out again
lets the feathers fall away and
up she rises too.
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5. |
1-5 The Café And The Fly
03:40
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lace drips off the table
a fly hovers and hums
around the fluorescent light above our heads
and the coffee goes down like mud
you stare into its surface
tell it you don’t love it anymore
while I stare into your mouthas it opens and closes
and the fly circles closer and closer
and the coffee goes down like mud
and then on the “o”of sorry
the fly jumps insidethe cave between your lips
and you shut it in, now silent
and I wonder what it tastes like, a fly
covered in the grease and dust of this café
and the coffee goes down like mud.
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6. |
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you spoon me into your coffee
and I dissolve
your elbow on the wonky table
and I am spilled
all over the cloth
checking off each embroidered flower as I spread
there is no run to save the varnish
no race to mop me up
there is no run to save the varnish
and so I dry, into the stitches.
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7. |
1-7 First Train Home
01:15
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the slick road
glows red and orange
while their days are starting
ours is only ending
they, a march of black and navy ants
from the station
we, two sleepy bodies
on the first train home.
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8. |
1-8 Fig Tree Slumber
05:46
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“To sleep under a fig tree, was in ancient times believed to secure slumber and quiet.”
- Encyclopaedia of Superstitions, Folklore and the Occult Sciences of the World.
the night doesn’t move
but you are restless
and you say your head is much too loud
and the clock still beats beside me
while the light
of our lounge room hums
so I follow
half dressed and sleepy
and I slip between your arms
and I paint the shape of a fig tree
with the shadows on the wall
so you can fall
into slumber
now I am still, silent
curled in your lap
while your breath
it slows.
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9. |
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what funny things bones are
buried beneath layers of tissue and fat
a perfect scaffolding for the form that moves
so fluidly around the kitchen
washing dishes in the apron I made
I laugh, and you ask my why
and I tell you I was picturing a skeleton
in pink dish gloves.
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10. |
2-2 Popcorn
05:14
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you take your time
starting with my skin
peeling back the surface to reveal
a network of fine roads
that carry you toward my chest
I can feel you when I breathe
and when you find my heart
the sound is like the crackling of a pan of popcorn.
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11. |
2-3 Drawer Diving
02:00
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the glass leaves
a white ring on the dresser
and the harder you stare at it
the bigger it grows
until you can dive straight down
like a circus clown
and the surface of the timber
shivers and breaks
and suddenly you are swimming through
the darkness of the drawer
bumping off old pairs of glasses
while lonesome gloves wave their seaweedy fingers
and the stack of old letters
you forgot
you had not thrown away.
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12. |
2-4 Butter Yellow
04:01
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she glows in butter yellow
it’s a colour you’ve never seen her wear before
the room turns as she enters
and your heart slides toward the floor
and she sinks into the chatter
that crescendos round the table
chairs shuffle as old friends make space
she glows in butter yellow
and her hair has grown down toward her waist
you can’t even remember
how short it was the night things fell apart
and the conversation swings side to side
like a tennis match
and she is the ball
tossed from one flirtation to the next
she glows in butter yellow
and you watch her as she circles round the room
and when she leaves you let her go
without a word.
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13. |
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Inspired by Vincent Van Gogh’s painting of the same name.
in the darkened part of the city
we sink into a doorway
pressed against the evening chill
your lips on mineare a warm pool of caramel
that trickles down into my shoes
and warms my feet
numb from finding the longest way home
from the terrace café
where we sat
in the golden light
that spilled out onto the street
while we poured our histories
over the edges of the table
among the fizzing conversation
that skipped over cobblestones
and followed us as we left the café
for the darkened part of the city.
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14. |
2-6 X-Ray
01:21
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ghostly white on black
each milky vertebrae
a block stacked
that I can climb
with my fingers
to the curved part of your neck
that shivers
with the soft brush of my breath.
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15. |
2-7 Apple Cider
06:31
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you, you are sweet
strong
heady
a flush on my cheeks
a lovely fog
that settles on my thoughts
a moment that is fleeting
like the firey flash of autumn
or the brush of a hand
in a darkened cinema
and you, you are sweet
strong
heady
a drive through the hills
a bright clear day
a breeze on my neck
a memory that lingers
like the crackling leafy carpet
or the static left behind
in the hairs on my arms.
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16. |
2-8 The Autumn Scuffle
02:28
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our feet follow
the autumn scuffle
of leaves in the gutter
around a corner
the road opens out on a steely sky
a train bridge crosses and cuts the vista
grey above and glossy black below
our feet follow
the autumn scuffle
of leaves in the gutter
past a café
full despite the weather
bundles of coats and grocery shopping bags
surround caffeine filled bodies
our feet follow
the autumn scuffle
of leaves in the gutter
they head toward the beach
we whirl with them along the waterfront
where ice cream is solid in the brisk air
does not melt
our feet follow
the autumn scuffle
of leaves in the gutter.
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17. |
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I continued writing and recording for the project even when I was away from home. This song was written while camping in the beautiful, tiny Victorian town of Marlo.
love, if you’ll let me
I can pull a song from a crack in the clouds
and let it spread
dark and low
I’ll fill it
until it bursts
and I’ll collect the notes like hailstones
in the palms of my hands
read your heart in the shapes they make
as they melt onto the ground
and if I find it brittle like ice
and singing like glass
I’ll take my skin
and wrap you in.
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Erica Bramham Melbourne, Australia
Genre-slippery songs, soundscapes and improvisations.
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