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Amelia Bird writes "The Den" - transcription below.
Holding and held,
I am sewn into the past,
In this fleeting
grasp of memory I am there,
In that moment I am young
and new and cradled,
Flesh raw to the touch
Countdown humming
Pots clatter next door
Yellow tinted curtains curve,
The World. It's just that room
Nothing more
E n d l e s s
E t e r n a l
In that moment I never
went to his funeral
and wore a black velvet dress
I tried to wear for a month after
In that moment
we are suspended in that childhood place
In that moment it's just us
Even though now I've forgotten his face
Words and photo by Amelia Bird