Poem: The Years Flow Through

This poem is dedicated to those we have named, and especially those we could not. The Years Flow Through was written and read by Bakita Kasadha at the UK AIDS Memorial Launch event in 2021 and at Tate Modern in 2025. The Years Flow Through was commissioned by The Food Chain, on behalf of the UK AIDS Memorial Quilt Partnership. 

where have the 40 years gone (1980):

we carve out space for ourselves
for release and restoration
for the first time

our bind: illegal, detained
we see the marks on our bodies and ignore them
each night returning to ourselves in joy

we see the marks on our bodies and try to cure them
each touch, learning to hold our full being
we see the marks on our bodies and hear whispers of what’s to come

they forget that we found home amidst it all
threatening our humanity
as though it’s theirs to take

lost friends, family, lovers, pounds
many hands create a wall of work
in protest, in comfort, in honour

silence equals death
they say nothing, accepting god has abandoned us
cut with crucifixes and through prayer

overlooked are we, the ones injected
by our own arm, a friend's, a public body
our own making to endure

they choose persecution - just like god
we save ourselves for months, days, hours
however long we have left

oblivious to why the babies are dying
why the wives are dying
for they are off the GRID

we breathe in your clothes to hold on
finding each other
in dreams and by headstones

restoring each bitter thought
they resist our righteous rage
not realising that we are fighting for their lives too

my love, I did want to go to your funeral
my love, I wish you could’ve been there to see
I know, you saw enough

where have the 30s gone (1990)

suffocated by urgency
we count our pills as we count our dead
which one is killing us?

stitched back together, in memory
through love, grief and time
not knowing how much was left

personal equals political
denial equals death
silence is not a strategy

hands held in softness
in protest
in desperation

chopping off years in its path
we count out our pills in time with our dead
we don’t know which one we’re dying from

pushed into corners and coded language
they make us visible
to rub us out

the medication is life changing
we hope, we long for, we plead, we pray
desperate to stay one step ahead (give us that)

willing life to advance
drowning in eulogies
not knowing if ours is next

bringing together age-old fractious allies, friends
black equals, gay equals, trans equals pride
we cannot dream freely without

a virus that’s hidden its age
they call it a culture war
we call it fighting for our lives

my love, I wish I could’ve told them what took you
my love, I wish you could’ve been there to see
I know, you saw enough

where have the 20 years gone (2000):

we realise we have survived a plague
medication works
no, not all our elders died

moving beyond our support system for love
we think through survival to thriving
yet, we still leave them behind

lifesaving and out of reach
they tell us to test
our worries are filled with where we’ll lay our head

still alert
still thrown out
still finding safety among strangers

we buy you presents
knowing you will not see your next birthday
we bring the date forward

we contemplate climbing into your coffin
the same way we climbed into your hospital bed
my undoing, why did I survive

we see another rotation around the sun
candles blown
watching families grow

my love, I shouldn't have had to go to your funeral
my love, I wish you could’ve been there to see
I know, you saw enough


where have the 10 years gone (2010):

we reclaim our humanity
see beyond our own
archives dusted off

three letters
controlled in our bodies
stirring our spirits and minds

we store up diagnosis anniversaries
not realising we would see this many
undetectable equals untransmittable

still waiting for people to catch up
still hyper alert
still finding safety among strangers

still
we say it’s not a moral issue
they ask us how we got it, still

pills pause effects and destruction
pills stop effects and destruction
we are measured by risk

hard to reach, blurred out
our risks are not the same
words worth less than papers marked

as though cries haven’t rippled through the decades
nothing about us
without us

my love, we are redefining our narratives
my love, I wish you could’ve been there to see
I know, you saw enough

where are we now:

we miss you
we still don’t say your name
to not out you, to not out us

the shame isn't ours to carry
daily
we remember

some say it’s in the past
memories flood back
as it still chokes our young

as many dead as are living
hierarchies prevail
stock outs

who has the freedom to be
to claim their humanity
to define themselves

funds withdrawn, reallocated
reminding us that progress can
be snatched away

some days we feel less inferior
we tweet #NormalizeHIV
remember that internet thing? it caught on

we see that the Creator is not removed from us
it's not a sin
the Divine breathes through us freely

perhaps it feels like a lifetime ago
they say we have a lifetime to go
we plan for old age

some days ignorance slices
a generation who'll never know
a generation born to see it all

less counting up letters
to throw against cracked mirrors
our souls whisper that HIV may have saved us

my loves, we continue repositioning our legacies
my loves, we wish you could be here to see it all
we know, you saw what was possible

——————————————————————————————————-

Bakita Kasadha