Dry Your Eyes - Wax Tailor, Sara Genn

I would describe myself as the landscape I buried

My mother’s face, as she carried me

How her water raged and emptied

Dry your eyes, those tears are all you’re given

It’s no surprise now, your heaven’s what you’re living in

I would describe myself as the colourfield I married

My New York pages, how they prepared

My sheets and the dirges caged and cared for me

Dry your eyes, those tears are all you’re given

It’s no surprise now, your heaven’s what you’re living in

«whenever auntie moves around her dress makes a curious sound they trail

behindher up the floor and trundle after through the door.»

(auntie's skirts-R.

L.Stevenson)

Dry your eyes, those tears are all you’re given

It’s no surprise now, your heaven’s what you’re living in

Dry your eyes, those tears are all you’re given

It’s no surprise now, your heaven’s what you’re living in