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                                          currency of generations

                                          ‘fetch the tin of buttons’
                                          a quest to the cupboard
                                          by the stairwell just outside
                                          the room we dressed in
                                          and spent all morning
                                          because it was warm
                                          ‘the one with the fruits’
                                          different sorts of fruit
                                          pastel-coloured and
                                          marshmallowy on a tin
                                          ‘they’re petit-fours’
                                          something to understand
                                          later (the taste had been sugary
                                          and pasty and although
                                          it looked like fruit it stuck
                                          in my throat) now has
                                          buttons which are cool
                                          and swirly when I run
                                          my finger through them
                                          and marbled-enough
                                          to see history and boiled-
                                          sweet transparent-enough
                                          to see worlds themed by colour
                                          and echo from the clothes of
                                          real people from family aunts
                                          and uncles in the past who
                                          I never knew or can’t remember
                                          the lineage from which I came
                                          all contained in the fading shine





a room in the House on Eglinton Hill
childhood & Eglinton Hill wormhole: rear attic / bedroom
family wormhole: celebrate
identity wormhole: the Penguin’s trap
lifetimes wormhole: my life / of others
Mum wormhole: wakey wakey / time to get up
muse wormhole: dream / 240897