Women are sweeping today. I sweep too, and collect church dust, plaster dust, and one flower head.
I sit on the edge, ledge, and bind my foot, begin to wind..
‘like swaddling, or death wraps’ someone says in passing, and I note the looping, and pulling…something to explore further..
and someone else flags up Mona Hatoum’s performance ‘Roadworks’, 1985.
No such thing as a simple journey.
