December 11th, 2013
A poem written in response to Cap-a-Pie’s Performing Research workshops at Newcastle University.
We gather at St Luke’s on Claremont.
from mullioned windows.
We each search for a way inside
(outside our normal spheres.)
We know each other only by symbols.
We do not speak, yet we say so much.
We move alone
before forced to group and clump,
divide and separate.
Making mirrors of each other’s bodies.
Go back then forwards.
Or is it just the reverse?
We make eye contact,
then break away
only to look back over our shoulders,
(until we do it again with someone new.)
Nothing here is proper:
we are no longer comforted by fact.
Instructed we form a circle.
Move closer, closer,closer
until our bodies touch:
Shoulder to shoulder
arm in arm
holding ourselves and then each other
palm to palm
flesh pressed into flesh.
always some part of our body in contact
Out of curiosity,
and then in anger.
Through mud and water
we make connections.
Breathing, sweating, limbs entwining,
clamouring to the compass points.
Repelled and attracted in equal measure.
Neither death nor gravity can part us:
We Move Together