Birthing What Cannot Be Eaten. ⚘
into the center of a giant chocolate cake.
⚘
Birthday cake? Is it your earthday?
⚘
No. Or it depends. What are we birthing?
I want to birth love & red roses. Every day.
But I am still there,
plunging my face deep into thick layers
of heavy chocolate cake,
I survive inside it,
as if it could answer something in me.
⚘
I keep diving. Diving.
Letting the layers feel endless.
⚘
And inside it, I find raspberries & secrets,
buried like fragile red roses in the dark night.
⚘
What is deepest within me does not want to be consumed but born.
⚘
And still I know that no ordinary cake in the world
can ever fill this hunger in me.
⚘
Not all questions are meant to be solved,
some are meant to be lived.
So I bake again & again. And again.
⚘
This time a magical chocolate cake.
Even heavier.
Thicker.
More magical than the last.
As if I could build an answer
out of sugar, heat and longing.
⚘
Tonight I bring it to the fire.
I place it there like an offering,
like a question & a test.
⚘
Maybe it will melt there,
and disappear into the air.
And maybe that is exactly what I need.
⚘
What I cannot fill may be what is trying
to be born through me.
⚘
A melted chocolate cake
covering my whole naked body
instead of only my mouth.
⚘
I think I will let myself
be transformed by
melting magical thick cakes at night .
⚘
Giving it to the fire.
And seeing if, finally,
I become free.
⚘
(Portrait & styling by Sabina Tabakovič.)