|Painting by Arna Baartz|
I cannot be stopped, I have such crazy faith little humanoid stated To the grey walls of a Cité a forgotown of sterile grids and How she rubbed her Womb, how she felt it turn and turn and shape like a potter, a Womb can birth a lot of things, Magic is only knowing so. Every month you will birth a room a river or a brick or salt yes A woman can birth the world not break the grid - but overgrow All the futile man-try remnants with no regard to the city - Her deep gaze joyfully greeting All the Newborn and dying Worlds.
By Giulia Essyad
Read more of Giulia's poems here.