Content Warning: grief, death
Elena S. Kotsile – Two Poems
Mummified Elegy
(for my grandma Z.)
I wrap my words around my tongue as I
wrap the linen cloths around your body.
Each layer, a memory identified pain—
I mourn for you and rediscover myself.
I did I removed your eyes. I removed your
heart. I removed your womb. Now, I rub my face
with the same salt I covered your
body I’m dry with no more tears to shed.
I place over your head your favorite
carnival mask from when you were little.
Now, you’re four and jump around in your costume.
My womb throbs in my hands. My heart lies still
on the floor. My eyes see nothing but the past.
I burn incense and lay in front of me
jars with cypress, cedar, bitumen from
the Dead Sea, myrrh, resins, animal fat—
I drink them slowly, one after the other.
I taste nothing as I feel nothing.
My hands mask my face as I walk in your
funeral procession someone says something to me,
someone shoves a pill in my mouth. I only
see you, smiling your first smile—
I only hear your fading voice, mama
watch over my children.
The Taxidermist’s Apprentice
In the dim light, the taxidermist
arranges patches of human skin
in perfect order—how I envy her.
I can’t even put my memories
in order—nasty little things, scarring
my scorched mind—let alone dead skin.
Memories flow in my vessels, bloated and
stretched—will they clot my heart, suffocate
my lungs, give me a reminiscent stroke?
She died remembering what
shouldn’t remember, forgetting what
shouldn’t forget.
“Be aware,” Master says pointing at
the naked nose in front of me,
“or you’ll end up with less skin than needed.”
Like memories: stretch them
too much and you’ll miss something
imperative, like your mother’s laugh.
Elena S. Kotsile (pen name) is a scientific editor and a neurodivergent writer based in Berlin, Germany. Her creative words have appeared or are forthcoming in The Future Fire, Stadtsprachen Magazin, Fevers of the Mind, Acropolis Journal, The Bear Creek Gazette, Grim & Gilded, Air & Nothingness Press, Rabid Oak, Anti-Heroin Chic, and Greek journals and anthologies. Besides scientific articles, she writes poetry and speculative fiction in English and Greek, and she's querying for her first speculative novel. Nominated for Best of Net for my poem Theoxenia flees Thessaly (Acropolis Journal, Issue Six). Twitter: Elena S. Kotsile @Elena_Beate; Instagram: Elena Kots
Artwork: body-room by Bianca Pina
Bianca Pina is a multi-media Artist and Poet based in London. Her work encompasses many mediums including language, ink, clay, pixels, photography and illustration. As a neurodivergent Bianca works in constellations rather than with strict linear ideas. Her poetry often has an arresting, brittle quality that can be both jagged and tender and explores the complex fields of family and personal history. Bianca has completed a MA in Writing Poetry through Newcastle University & The Poetry School London. She has published a chap book titled "Artificial & Otherwise" with Good Space Gallery for their Machine Dreams exhibition. Her work can be found on www.biancapina.com and on social media @Bianca___pina