15.7.15

Από τα δάχτυλα στα... Fingers

Historian's Note: this piece was composed during yesterday's presentation of Manos Kontoleon's newest novel centered around the erotic love between women; this poem's name is directly inspired from one of the book title's possible translations in English. It explores themes and ideas shared during the presentation, as well as personal observations made while I listened to the guests' analyses and several beautiful excerpts from the novel itself.



     Fingers upon her body

-  once hid between moments of the soul’s heroism – 
but perhaps not in the caves of that, most distant, past,

or the recent pillars of false godhood
clamoring for the palm sighs of winds,

           the number of fingers unchanged,
          akin that perennial human nature

                         (and)
how one gaze paints us forever

and how some moist seeds inside those brains n’ minds
compel us to frame truths into that finite sanctity of books
                                             (read: tragedies)

bodies (not) clockworks or gears
or paradises labelled in each century’s human Rosetta

  bodies are the mortal lips of immortal truths,
‘love’, ‘freedom’, ‘identity’ ,
                              |
                              |
                              |
                            ‘self’(?)



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