Poem
Pascale Petit
What the Water Gave Me (VI)
What the Water Gave Me (VI)
What the Water Gave Me (VI)
This is how it is at the end –me lying in my bath
while the waters break,
my skin glistening with amnion,
streaks of starlight.
And the waters keep on breaking
as I reverse out of my body.
My life dances on the silver surface
where cacti flower.
The ceiling opens
and I float up on fire.
Rain pierces me like thorns. I have a steam veil.
I sit bolt upright as the sun’s rays embrace me.
Water, you are a lace wedding-gown
I slip over my head, giving birth to my death.
I wear you tightly as I burn –
don’t make me come back.
© 2010, Pascale Petit
From: What the Water Gave Me: Poems after Frida Kahlo
Publisher: Seren, Bridgend
From: What the Water Gave Me: Poems after Frida Kahlo
Publisher: Seren, Bridgend
Pascale Petit
(France, )
Pascale Petit was born in Paris, grew up in France and Wales and lives in Cornwall. She is of French/Welsh/Indian heritage. Her eighth collection, Tiger Girl, from Bloodaxe in 2020, was shortlisted for the Forward Prize for Best Collection, and a poem from the book won the Keats-Shelley Poetry Prize. Her poems have been broadcast on BBC Radio 3 and 4, The Poetry Archive and Australia’s ABC Radi...
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What the Water Gave Me (VI)
This is how it is at the end –me lying in my bath
while the waters break,
my skin glistening with amnion,
streaks of starlight.
And the waters keep on breaking
as I reverse out of my body.
My life dances on the silver surface
where cacti flower.
The ceiling opens
and I float up on fire.
Rain pierces me like thorns. I have a steam veil.
I sit bolt upright as the sun’s rays embrace me.
Water, you are a lace wedding-gown
I slip over my head, giving birth to my death.
I wear you tightly as I burn –
don’t make me come back.
From: What the Water Gave Me: Poems after Frida Kahlo
What the Water Gave Me (VI)
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