Marzia D’Amico: extracts from ‘The exact stellar science behind.’

Being alone isn’t the only option.

All I ever wanted to have and didn’t know is in you.
I love the way we talk away the dooming politics of the so called
real world
the way we wave to the darkest traits we inherited as looms
from the families we were born into
and intertwine our songs for better existence
until sun dawns

I show you my skin, my skills, my arts, my parts:
my trauma (a bubbled mix of all of them in one), my tears,
(my ex would say I am off-puttingly true)
my favourite videos on youtube, my boobs.

You teach me the privilege of vulnerability
you draw down “friendship ain’t worth less than romance”
I let you scratch my neck in proven intimacy
your delightful delicacy lost at night eating french fries
feeding each others bitter truths
knowing everything’s fine
because love multiplies

You need something gentle and tender right now.

Gentle is a loaded word
your touch was never that
my waving neither

I need
a luminous liberation from heavenly fingers
a celestial cadence strolling in memory
for the most difficult days, warlike
in the head

Roughly like a chicken breast deveined from the crust by a mother
treating the small bones choking kittens
fish bones for children
Jesus Christ mild

but tender like the night oh, yes the night of the song the night
of a novel I wanted not to be part of but the magistra said
look at the page as a mirror

For women to fall like into a pit – what a bad habit
what a golden headache this evil that wracks my cerebrum
this well of mine
what an exceptional number of survival
as you slyly watch over it
as not to drown

People often return to what’s familiar, not what’s good for them.

A volte ritornano we say
in Italian
in every culture we speak
of the dead of the living
dead for us
les revenants we give thanks to the past
we may have no future
we are better off talking about the dead
we think they no longer speak but then they return
they take up the paragraphemic
spaces

they dispute the commas they inhabit the development of thought
between round and
[ square brackets

they turn the wheel of fortune that is all fortuna

Sometimes they return and we always
let them return
I killed you
but I still haven’t quit reading your horoscope on Sundays

Be brave enough to trust your own voice.

I sound like everyone before me and nobody before and you
we sound the same we claim the same sounds
We exist in the tension between my uttering and your listening
I shout myself out in the tiny asemantic particle

For more than one voice
I cry
invocation ruah

For more than one voice Jacob OOHM phoné
the call calls a call

For more than one voice langue language parole
le Dire a dit le Dit

For more than one voice under the jaguar sun
talking cure vocal performance

I am speaking myself up
to relate to me first and foremost
I am pronouncing my wording
breathing out my thinking
I am defining my essence
voicing my gargle