for soprano, mezzo soprano, double bass, alto flute + tenor sax.
fp Regina Freire, Simone Ibbett-Brown, Thomas Plater, Fiona Sweeney, Thomas Morgan | Wigmore Hall | 7th June 2018
duration 9'
Listen:
view full score here
original poem by Edward Einhorn
I know this place
The ice
Blood seeping through my toes
The wind bitter but silent
My skin transparent
Except for a maze of veins
I know what happens
She approaches
Whispers in a language I can't quite comprehend
Words turn to honey
Run down my neck
I reach up
Just my ear, brittle from the cold
We walk
And I leave bright red footprints in the snow
Shards of glass digging against my bones
Her kind eyes fill me with dread
I see my house
“Come, have some tea,” I invite her
“Please, let me make you some toast and jam.
I’ll put the kettle on
Won’t that be nice?”
In the kitchen
Water bubbles
For a moment I am she
Watching my feet drag blood across the vinyl floor
Watching me pour milk into the tea
Waiting for me
And then
The next day
Sunlight streams into my kitchen
I make tea again
Warm, familiar comfort
What was it that I dreamed
I've forgotten