GOLDSMITHS | BA Fine Art 2017

Esme Lewis-Gartside



The Wall
text

closer to the wall,
cold spheres drop

one
by
one
off the surface onto the floor


here they rest
waiting for the demon to come along and push them into him


illuminated by the cool light of the wall


i bathe


shredding my stomach to hide inside myself


as the skin flakes away
the antenna surface

at first
pushing their way through the bellybutton
one
by
one
off the surface onto the floor


as i turn around and look back at the empty womb

my antenna
twitch

the cold spheres have been discarded
it left them behind

i push
them
slowly into my

exploring the surface with my lounge

tasting the lips


The Wall
text