Inside

Singing ships

The sway

Like a song bird’s wings

Dried in the sun, ready to mystify me with its magical flight

Bowing, bending

Her halls are rivers

Not concrete, not iron bars

But art

Art that swam and stretched and stood tall

Alive

Who could say these visions were building or simple boats?

Standing under great arches claiming these were nothing but floors to walk on

These desert dunes

Electric highways

Their bones exposed, contorted and breathing

Reaching out arms and fingers and feet

To defy construction and make movement

She will live inside these breezeways

The curves of her mouth lay wide in winding stairwells

The lean of her waist, the part in her teeth

Like the sill of a window hung defiantly over deep waters

Levitating lifts

In your magic hat we appear and disappear

Behind water

Behind celestial doors

And found somewhere inside you

In memory of Zaha Hadid (1950-2016)