by Lucy Norton patrilineal dreamt you were a poem i kept writing you if i am alive it means parts of you are still dreamt you were an ocean i kept being afraid of you if i am alive it means i am here to reunite ghosts of lineage past what would it mean for them to taste freedom? shackles look different but i know yours because they became mine we both had pain to run from you just got away first i am choosing to run towards instead create a new legacy one you might’ve wanted to inherit to give to us you were second last of your brothers to die but the first to put up a fight dreamt you were a story i’ll keep writing you her waters
our rivers call me by names i haven’t heard before arms extending across mouth and state and sea gentle pull at my seams gotta unravel to hear ‘em ocean is loudest when i’m coastal can’t go anywhere without hearing her song mama says when you become water you will sail sometimes i’m done fighting to float feels like birthright i am a willing participant this is a devotion i belong to Lucy Norton is a storyteller of Koori & Quechua heritage living on Gadigal land. Her work explores lived experience, and aims to navigate the complexities of relationality and memory. They're a recipient of the Varuna First Nations Fellowship 2023, Red Room Emerging Poet's Residency 2024 and their work has been published in kindling & sage, Sunder Journal and Right Now Magazine.
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January 2025
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