Galloping Horses
We caught a moment of your underwater world.
Galloping horses, the midwife said.
In there there’s weird fishes
and a submarine with a rotating light
looking for life
steadily; beep, beep, beep.
You like to hide.
At first on screen it was like looking at you from above
in a bathtub,
then you simply slept on your face like your father,
refusing to move, despite star jumps.
As they pushed into me
you materialised in and out of existence,
arms, no arms, legs, no legs,
I was hoping to see a member
or the absence of one
to gauge your secrets and gain an even field.
You’re still liminal, a sprite, a god.
I’d like to think that’s what you’ll always be to me,
but I must warn you,
people here are static and tired and almost
always not magical.
I’d like to call you by your name.
They might as well show me my brain
with all its junk and hopes
or my heart, where you also live.
As I lie in pain, give up on sleep,
get up and write this,
with what’s left of my boldness I think I would do this,
a thousand times, again.
Setareh Ebrahimi is a poet living in Faversham, Kent. She has been published numerous times in various journals and magazines, including Brittle Star, Confluence and Scrittura. Setareh released her first pamphlet, entitled In My Arms from Bad Betty Press in 2018.