'THE DOOR  from Breakdown' by Seraphima Kennedy


we went through the door            no one believed we would
it was situated on a precipice             that’s what everyone said         
on one side, truth -                 what we used to call ‘truth’ -     
before ‘red’ didn’t mean ‘red’            became cobalt        ochre 

we went through the door             it was there and not there
I could feel my fingers grip                the doorframe
someone had taken the door                 off its hinges
and they were laughing            I could hear them 

I was caught                                                 as I fell
            in a net, 

like a map of my country 

        in threads
                of cast  iron         and blood
there were four giants     
            wearing baseball caps 

who threw me up into the air        

as the threads frayed
        I begged for more
                    I begged them not to stop


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