Wednesday, December 08, 2004

Milena


- Red table cloth -

The phone rings:
green screen;
Caller Unknown.

"Her mother" - limbs tingle
Her mother - I walk.

Her voice,
my ears,

echoes of
self-deception.

Brown leather:
denial.

My voice:
resonance --

"How is she?"

Hands grasp deer horns on varnished shelves --

"The pain was
Inhuman".

Starched tongue,
forced silence:

Inhuman.

Mind dims:
refusal.

Dark locks, bright eyes:

All faded.

frag ment ed a ware ness...
No more.

No...

Head twirling --
I sink
White void --
I wish...

Warm salt,
sheer sorrow,
circular clarity --

Gone.

- Lunchtime -


Dedicated to my ex-course mate and friend Milena C. - who died with leukemia at the age of 22 on July 19, 2002.

Copyright © 2004 Anna Piutti