Milk Star, 2024
published by hooops, 2024, Berlin DE
four modes
shedding
absorbing
remembering
conserving
three settings
Mountain
Valley
Mountain-and-Valley
memory works like a weed growing roots in one place and blowing seeds to another
sky changes color
forms loose definition
insomnia
at night i remember stuff
eins
zwei
drei
vier
fünf
sechs
sieben
acht
neun
zehn
a faint beat
my body grows heavier
i become a vague presence
falling asleep falling awake
leaking into another world
waves will catch you
instruction:
breathe in, breathe out
drink your tea
i see pickled daisies
i see freshly foraged nettle
i see the grass dancing
i see blooming lilacs
i see food being flowers
i see flowers being food
a bunch of blooming dandelions in a glass vase
their white fuzzy seeds almost glowing
artemis didnt want to get married to a man
and was banned from the city
to live in the mountain forests with a group of nymphs
being a major lesbian
she is also the goddess of a NASA program
that is dedicated to return astronauts to the lunar surface
“Our success will change the world”
Artemis Generation ™
mugwort likes a wasteland
it lives in cracks and next to the highway
we drink the tea and go to sleep
we are standing in the kitchen
i am making Roasted Dandelion Root Tea
dandelion
milk witch
white wandering seeds
ghost of a flower
white fuzz
i read in thea lenarduzzis “Dandelions”
the delicate white flowers are used as an analogy for the mind transformed by alzheimers
“decay of a flowering brain
pollinating the world”
she tells me she recently learned that
at 20 weeks
a fetus with an uterus has a fully developed reproductive system
with six to seven million eggs
the egg that later grew into me
was already present in my mothers
before my mothers belly
the egg that later grew into my mother
was already present in my mother
before my mother
before my mothers belly
anna
christina
marguerite
louise
this is already where my knowledge of the line ends
a few weeks ago
i turned the same age
my mother had when she was growing me
i read online that after starting the menstrual cycle
a person loses about 1,000 immature eggs every month
on extendfertility.com
i learn that this number even accelerates with age
accelerates, in italics
“the good news is
that egg freezing makes use of some of those
otherwise lost eggs”
reading more about this i learn
that when pregnancy does not occur
the egg is absorbed back into the body
and the thick lining in the uterus is shed
this is the period
after the period ends
the cycle begins again
a body bleeding
a seed
a stone
a stone being a seed being a body bleeding
i wonder if the eggs are actually lost
if they are just absorbed back into my body
search terms: past, present, dream
living the dream
putting some dreams on ice
a long time ago you sent me a postcard
with a drawing by paul klee
Vergesslicher Engel
forgetful angel
the angel looks down
slightly embarrassed
paul klee drew over 80 angels
they signified
a crossing
a portal
a transition from life to death
i lost so many memories i had of the mother before my mother
Grossmami i called her
when i started writing this text
i had even forgotten for a moment
that she died of alzheimers
growing up i knew she was not a kind mother
to my mother
i remember
being in the laundry room
i loved the cool stone floor
and I liked being down there
the room was filled with light
and you could step out
and be in the middle of the flower garden
i remember grossmami mending my doll gleisi
in an attempt to give her a tan
i had placed gleisi on the stove and burned her
instead of a face there was white fuzzy wool coming out of her head
grossmami gave her a new face and she explained to me that it looked neat
to place one of gleisis braids in the front
and one in the back
i remember grossmami
not being able to walk up the stairs of the house
she spent her time in a hospital bed in the TV room
i dont remember if grossmami remembered me
white fuzz
cloud thoughts
brain fog
we enter through a narrow door into a roomaccompanied by our guidethey are completely dressed in whitethey lead us through a corridor through a door and sit us down on two plastic chairsthey ask us to focus our eyes onto the screen at all timeswe see a baby bird falling down a cliffit falls and falls we see it fall and fallit falls and fallsthe small feathery body bangs against rocks and is thrown around
cutwe see a naked pregnant person kneeling in the grasswe see a baby head being pushed out of their vaginawe see them holding a crying baby
cut
the guide comes back in and asks us questions about parenthoodthey ask us about our individual reproductive desires and predicaments
one thing you should never do is attempt to summon angels
they wont relate
demons are more understanding
angels are endless
and outside human time and emotions
they will never empathize
they are strict and unyielding
they come to us with messages but they dont text
you learned this from a witch who learned it on tiktok
they have no individuality and no story
nothing to choose from
the moment they choose
they fall out of the skies
like lucifer,
falling for
a morning star
we gather on a blanket by the water
and i read you this poem i found
Summer, Lake
You can’t fish
for light, or
You can, but
you have to
throw it back.
above us birds circling
they move as a cloud and take a rest in a tree
a helicopter turning
the clouds are dark
the water is murky
with spots of pollen floating
like there was an oil spill
another word for “seedbank”
#girlmoss
you can cook whatever you want but it should be small cute bites instagramable
looking at the clouds
learning names for leaves
im just vibing over here
my desire to conserve seeds and eggs
what happens to a seed vault built into permafrost
once when the permafrost melts
how much rent do i have to pay for my eggs
to be stored off-site
the mother
before my mother
before my mother
was louise bergundtal
which translates into mountain-and-valley
i never knew about this name before
and I love it for the balance it carries
balance being something
I am always searching for
equilibrium
Berg und, and
being a bridge connecting the mountain to the valley
louise bergundtal had two children
a daughter
my mothers mother – margaret
and a son which name my mother does not remember
she tells me to ask my uncle
louise lost her son in a climbing accident
while he was out in the mountains
she heard violent knocking on the window
but no-one was there
that was when he fell
we are walking through the gardenthe grass is stretched widegeorg, the “earth worker” (dad) asks me about the different plants and trees we are passinghe shows me how to tell them apart and he tells me many times which ones to never!!! put in my mouth
・ 。゚☆: *.☽ .* :☆
MilkstarLilyoftheValleyNightshade
・ 。゚☆: *.☽ .* :☆
since then so much time has passed and it became more important to read other languages than the language of leaves
so it moved into the back of my mind
theres pollen gathering on my phone screen as i write this
a fine layer of yellow dusty stars
i live so much closer to the sky now