A letter to O—Rooom

The Voice of My Own Echo, a project by Marina Dubia
O—Overgaden, Copenhage, Dinamarca, 2023

around your neck

I can warm up your vocal cords

My soft, silky touch

languid like the letter "N" carved by a ~

teaches you to speak in another language

they call me "pañuelo"

I flew from Spain and floated on the Baltic Sea

I was a seagull, a jellyfish, a fish of satin silk

I am now a deposit of salty tears from the feeling of longing

wet, thirsty for so so fresh water from that clay filter

I learned the language of birds with Fahlström

I sought in his maps, in his gardens

an argument

and now you can speak

the letter "O" makes a swirling sound

of spinning and turning in a circle

"O" has the sound of a joyful invitation

the O-room has four corners like me

melting easily like a square silk scarf

wrapping around a waist

a head

a throat

holding tight, letting go