Elio Rame

Hic sunt dracones

I find solace in the images of monstrosity,
Of mythical devilled figures with mixed genitalia and hungry otherworldly gazes
With wings and fangs and horns and unabashed vulgarity,
Double-triple-tongued creatures of truth
With doom bearing screams echoing through time.
Alone,
In dripping caves,
In equally dripping images of the self
Creeping through the cracks of history.
Lunging at heroes, moving the earth,
scrambling their narratives;
Their fiery presence giving birth to History and our Story.
Cathartic creatures composing chaos,
Defiling and sublimating nature,
Existing between limits,
Between boundaries, binaries.
A reminder of the wonders of nature
Which hide themselves from the watchful eyes of worried patriarchs,
As you hide,
As you find the courage to trail alone in the forbidden forest.
Brain shaped bushes and trembling teething trees,
Wind moving unmoving matter,
Until at the end of the world there is only the self
To love with hubris,
While the gods finally look at you like an equal.
As you finally feel like your body could contain a person,
Whispering: ‘Here there be dragons’.