III. II. I.

by lucy holmes

Let her water rise up to meet me

That godly tide

- dividing-

the land at the shore

Rising, polarising,

Calling your tired body

back for more.

-

And Autumn always comes

at the strangest of times

Where the trees; once glowing ‒

transform into thick distorted lines

Where the leaves; once growing ‒

Exploded like mines

So, let that empty tide rise -

Reach and expand

And double in size

To meet my body once more.

-

And you ‒

I saw you running

Down the steps of the stairs

Down concrete, through sea salt

And misty dark airs

And you ‒

You ran to meet her ‒ as she rose

to you

Her body ‒ melting

Dripping from the midnight sky

One with the midnight blue

Slowly,

As blue moves to black

Those murky dark waters

Possessed what you lack

That feeling ‒ the metal ‒ my blood running dry

Then three became two

And two became I

I; Watching the river

Rise up in my chest

I; As quickly as a bloodhound can run

Watched three become two

And two become none

To none ‒

Down those hard concrete stairs

One with the sea salt

And misty dark air

To none ‒

For my mind is not there

My body forsaken,

my ribcage laid bare

To none ‒

The change we have made

It canʼt be forgotten

It canʼt be undone

---

Lucy Holmes is a multi-disciplinary writer, artist, performer and theatre-maker. Lucy is a final year Drama and Theatre studies student in Trinity College Dublin and is a named scholar of Drama and Theatre. Originally from the midlands of Ireland, her writing takes a lot of inspiration from the landscapes and people that surrounded her growing up. She has been writing from a young age both poetically and theatrically, with the two modes of writing often melting into one.