Planted

The Erotics of Awe The Erotics of Awe is a poetry collection in which Byuka visualises ecological intimacy. These poems trace the mysterious & animist forces between people and places - the collective body with its entanglement of lineages, vulnerabilities, desires and resonance. That hauntological world-building that blooms between us when we listen to the voices of the non-human.

The Erotics of Awe

Tentacular Anarchist Poetics

the stench of seaweed 

sharp in the fingertips / happiness 

tastes like seasalt 

on your skin

with this downpour of light shaping itself 

into forehead kisses 

I’m dreaming of

me in my dyke boots tending to 

guerrilla gardens, 

us molding the last bits of clay

on our communal houses, the solar powered 

cyborgs reading poems in our glasshouse-turned-library 

and the nomadic beekeepers mapping the world 

in wildflower honey 

we are 

futuring the queer temple 

with our toes digging trails of aliveness 

an archive of dance vocabularies 

made in underground raves, in the panic post anti-trans laws 

our deities are worms alchemizing compost – 

when there is nothing left 

we will always be able 

to whisper prayers to the mud.

time is an erotic landscape 

intertidal 

unfurling our skins 

and birthing new tongues to speak right at this moment 

never finishing anything endlessly 

edging this planet in their turn 

this is the miraculous strangeness of the world 

come and taste it 

rub your fingers into the unknown textures 

of this joyous mess 

from my skin to yours to the breath 

of the trees

your feet mulching on soil; it’s rust. 

shining in sunlight/an orb-weaving spider 

spinning threads made with your blood made 

with your sharpest hunger 

heavy

in the luminescent skylight 

decentralised cities

from the dance floor to the protest 

speculative adorations – 

world building from our bellies touching 

undoing that ancestral pain

chanting from the nucleus of my cells

when there is nothing left 

we will always be able 

to trust in our day dreams 

invoking social ecologies and 

stories with big mouths chewing on this

asymmetric present 

and on all of our city’s 

anti-homeless 

architecture

All That Wet Green Genesis

bury my wet skeleton underneath your tongue 

in the warmth of your body 

I will be reborn 

a manifesto drenched in aphrodisiac – 

we build new organs 

with these glimmering breaths 

& see how mist turns into flesh 

when longing is a playground. I crown you 

in seashells I gathered

so my mind can remember 

my identity is not far 

from the luminous vastness of water. 

seems appropriate – I turn 

into a barnacle 

glue myself to your bliss. feed me with the salt of your tears 

I can survive both in the body of a sea 

and on its migratory ghosts. 

I can survive on any membrane 

welcoming enough to not forget my name

and that my name is touch

and that my name is time. 

I crown you with these seashells 

till your tongue can only speak 

in whale songs

and you lullaby me into the night 

while the waves kneel this time 

not at the moon 

but at your shine. 

algae spread throughout your tailbone 

mingling with the prehistoric data

a polyphonic remembrance –

your skins turning inwards into mossbeds 

DNA archives of tails scales and bone caressed 

by the deep sea. all that wet green 

Genesis –

the elemental gods rushing into overspill

shapeshifting

into longing, teeth, tongue, pulse and trouble. 

The Erogenous Zones of Memory

It’s december and my longing 

Asks for snow.

An offering from the skies

That only tease us 

With their mothering. I wait

& hope to be tangled

In the mismatched colors 

Of the sun – this time carved 

From an eye’s 

White 

Shell. 

I love us with terror. I don’t go lightly 

Towards the seraphim 

Made from your blood. Their claw 

Posing as a wing 

Arched,

To nest me whole.

I don’t go lightly 

Towards the seraphim 

Made from your blood.

I would just ask- 

Transcribe me in sound 

As I know sound is your breath

Birthed into refuge – in the bridge between 

You & awe. 

Let your cello sing of my pulse

Spreading through your fingertips spreading 

through sun-kissed soil

Your head in my hands,

Radiant animacy –

Fractals of flesh & its bruises 

Cradling moss –

The earth’s humming 

Licks our bones clean 

Spits us back out. 

A salivating prayer pierced in all corners

By the chlorophyll 

You left dripping. 

Our mouths full of mud

Saying yes 

To a longstanding wailing. 

Do you still remember 

What you were carrying underneath your eyelids? 

Me neither, 

But I can feel the sea, so close. 

The shape of what is to come 

Trembles 

And we tear up to know 

The future has a heartbeat. Come here 

You say 

As my skin makes itself into a bridge towards yours

What is love than just divinity 

Teasing. What is love than just 

A shelter of spit- a river so dense 

it clings to your bones. 

This is how snow feels when you call onto it, you say 

When you swap a breath

For a kiss? I ask 

Hearing you reminds me of smearing my blood across the bark of that tree who raised me in the dream worlds. Feels like something else outside of us weaves our breaths together like braids. I sing to this blood my longing & the roots of the tree become the bearers of my most hidden self. The most unwelcoming, the one that fortifies itself by hunting future memories- the beasts that bite from underneath the feet gulping in the shadows that hope makes when it’s so ripe it’s rotten. 

I let this blood be sung into the sap, losing its own voice as it starts brewing in the wood. I brush my breath against your veins & 

The tides that hold you together rise towards the moon 

At the back of my mouth.

Webs Weaving Wombs

yes I knew, being a dyke 

is an initiation of sorts:

you cast your spells in my mouth 

and your presence takes me back to when

matter aligned against anti-matter:

a vortex of heart collisions

a fertile chaos. those strange primordial waters –

archives of queer myth.

the ash curled 

underneath our bodies 

declining/sloppy theories of masculinity

we revive soul waste from fossil layers

through the tectonic gaps 

of our pelvic bones.

// we are sweating capitalist radiation en-masse //

bird songs

arrange new dialects of being 

into the bones in-land. 

bird songs

shake

the synthetic crust resting 

on human eyeballs.

ferns accelerating

into heart space. ferns accelerating 

into any 

detectable spines.

slow tunes to soothe the unrested eyelids

i’m afraid of myself first:

of breaking my own boundaries. 

I missed your hands and your body somehow pressed 

against mine improvising

sculptures of care

under the blankets. 

I’ll lick

the center of your celestial mass

&

wait for the 

endless potentiality 

to activate.

I touch your eyelashes with mine. can you develop 

your dreams into 

the cavities 

of my backbone?

webs weaving wombs

in my sleep 

in our sculptures in the dark our bodies eat

habits

of mythical thought. 

a vortex of heart collisions

a fertile chaos.

one full circle return to the planetary dances. 

lust resources flooding from earth skin to 

those shores of becoming. 

jupiter’s moons spinning around my neck,

the future wrapped in warm stones around my erogenous edges.

all soaked in petals of menstrual blood.

barefoot panic: instincts longing 

for fields of wet twisted limbs, open mouths growling, 

tides of pleasure-echos, potions dripping

from shattered hearts 

ready to share, ready to heal. 

Wetlands, Breathing

slowly ::: slowly caressing skin. butterfly wings 

touching. fingers pressing gently 

on the lines of the neck. first kiss. explosion of stars 

and chrysalises in the cauldron 

of my pelvic bones 

“i don’t know why but your body feels so familiar”

from the bed to the floor, water splashing, fingers in a lion’s mane, your insides tasting like utopian fruit, strong arms, that smell I’d like to keep in my lungs as a present. 

(first flower of winter: jasmine) 

your eyes glowing in the dark/ nocturnal animals

our wombs in wetland

encoding ancestral languages. 

we slept for one hour. the next day 

my teenage self cried.

a healing breath into my unconscious bones: 

the star of the depths

is in the eye of your lover.

celebratory fire engulfing my nervous system:

my guts wired to the sun/ my body cells spinning

in doses of volcanic joy. come here and kiss me with your tongue

listen to this magma singing 

a lullaby in my mouth. 

when we die we wake up in our celestial bodies 

orgasming, 

moaning births of suns. 

until then,

your smile is my warmest

terrestrial home. 

 
Poems by Byuka Makodru

Byuka Makodru is a trans & migrant workshop facilitator, dancer, movement director & poet. They explore folk futurism and practices of queer-animist world-building through performances, film, community rituals & workshops. 

Their writing plays with ancestral healing, ecology, speculative fiction, disability justice, queerness and (re)enchantment. They have been published in Field Project Zine, Lesbians are Miracles, Luxury Literature Magazine, Aghh! Zine and Performing Borders. 

Their work has also been shown at the Royal Albert Hall, Iklektik, Camden’s People Theatre, the National Gallery, Queer Circle, Ugly Duck, The Barbican, Guildhall, BBC Sounds and Mimosa House. 

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