THE VINYARD
Amy Gillies
What if we let the grapes hang from our mouths?
Would you tell me a story?
Like the one about the boy who sank in the ocean
When he pushed his boat too far out
As we lounge beneath the shade of growing vines
Will you roll up my sleeves?
And fold the fabric twice
To secure it in place
I’ll hold my breath and wish for this moment
To remain unmoving
Imagining our young hands never
growing tired of each other
Let us stay here, hidden within the overgrown fruit
Where we can lament the old philosophers
And their silly writings
We can laugh until our bellies ache
You’ll crush the grapes between your hands
And we’ll feed each other until we feel the bliss
That we once believed impossible
You can brush your finger along my lip
And catch the intake of my breath
And as I am held within this moment
I will not know that you are elsewhere
And even as you quiver open mouthed
And collapse onto my body
Your weight will be a lie
Your touch will be a false impression upon my skin
And I will believe every breath that dampens my neck
Is an expression of youth in all its purity
When it is only youth’s bitter sting
It is the loss before parting
Would you tell me a story?
Like the one about the boy who sank in the ocean
When he pushed his boat too far out
As we lounge beneath the shade of growing vines
Will you roll up my sleeves?
And fold the fabric twice
To secure it in place
I’ll hold my breath and wish for this moment
To remain unmoving
Imagining our young hands never
growing tired of each other
Let us stay here, hidden within the overgrown fruit
Where we can lament the old philosophers
And their silly writings
We can laugh until our bellies ache
You’ll crush the grapes between your hands
And we’ll feed each other until we feel the bliss
That we once believed impossible
You can brush your finger along my lip
And catch the intake of my breath
And as I am held within this moment
I will not know that you are elsewhere
And even as you quiver open mouthed
And collapse onto my body
Your weight will be a lie
Your touch will be a false impression upon my skin
And I will believe every breath that dampens my neck
Is an expression of youth in all its purity
When it is only youth’s bitter sting
It is the loss before parting
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BIO:
Amy Gillies is a contemporary artist who lives and works in London. Amy graduated from Kingston School of art and since then has taken part in the Artists in Residence programme at One Paved Court in Richmond and has exhibited and performed in several group exhibitions including The London Art Grads Now 2021 at Saatchi Gallery. |
