BY: Athena Melliar
Ηere, here on the inside I see myself as she
arrives distilled through the alembic of seas.
Still lake, dead calm, sunk land, imbued my past:
swirl, wave; rage, wind; rise, reef and rim me.
Ηere, here on the inside I see a self, she
rims my past in Aegean blue, and from the vast
I necromance, ‘What am I, that is to be
purified by the alembic of seas?’
The water speaks of women and wombs massed
at the bottom of the sea; they look at me,
they look like me. Ηere on the inside I see
Aphaeans underneath. Aphaean, how fast
you breathe your pranic plea: ‘Remember me.’
Filtered through the alembic of seas,
memory changed: behind her face there is a cast —
past and apathy — of Smyrna fire, of Syri-
an scene. Here, here on the inside she
touches me and I bleed: drowned children glass
themselves in blood distilled through the alembic of seas.
*Aphaean from Greek Aphaia, meaning ‘she who is unseen’
Athena Melliar is a feminist poet. She has earned a degree in Philosophy and Psychology. Her work has appeared in The Menteur, Dark Marrow, LEVELER, So to Speak: a feminist journal of language & arts, Moonchild Magazine, and other literary publications. She has been profiled in Maudlin House. (she/her)
Twitter: @AthenaMelliar, Instagram: athenamelliar