Poetry & Reflections

Gone were the days when she lived by herself, with hundreds of books and the rest of paraphernalia of another world, all jammed in 28 square meters. Uncharted, munificent territories to explore. Now she enters the empty room through a smoke screen and looks at the leftovers she took: a smooth toothbrush, small debris of toothpaste between the bristles, a worn-out blue dress. She thinks: What a jest, what a jest, and here I am. Terribly alone. Terrified, yet unflappable, flustered. Hands folded, dry skin, eczema on her neck, tired and lugubrious dark eyes . She looks at her phone: it is bed time, sets an alarm. Nothing unusual, she could rest and think, think and rest. In 7 hours, he’ll be here. She thinks: He’ll come. Open the door, open the fridge, open the window- so many things to turn on and open except me. I am a glacial figure, boreal as I am, magnetized by my solitude, I am pushing the limits of my absence. I forget what his voice sounds like. Honeyed when laying in my arms, app...

  She lives in a lifeboat  Keeping in her arms: a toothbrush  a white rabbit and  20 years of unconfessed love How would/what could/what if- she underlines these possibilities  The word “incompatibility” haunting aimlessly  -we suck at timing, baby, she’d think with the  uncanny feeling that  it was never meant to happen.  What’s the probability of being struck by lightning  What’s the probability of meeting him again after 20 years?  One in a million, she’d say  One in a million.  Now, miss Lilly, cheers to  All the newcomers that will come and go  Fading away, unblinkingly To all the failed, aborted ones that went unperceived  Raise your glass, Lilly, and sing to all The uncharted possibilities  Nothing is lost and buried  The best is yet to come.

  The chicken becomes sort of pink Pink monster refusing to die  It should be forbidden to leave some/one/thing half-dead Half-cooked chicken, a one-winged angel don't leave food on your plate our parents used to say Then what is it that not-too-salted not-too-sweet thing  Not-too-excessive not-too-beautiful not-too-ravishing not-too-nothing? Something edgy without being too edgy  I had enough of this; I said. A mouthful of paradoxes  A staggering story that keeps repeating  Each time I hold something that looks like a hand Each time it scratches the surface of a placenta  Generating crevices, a boreal image where always Always  All- ways  Something seeps in  Maybe a hand, maybe the glove that keeps warm and protects  Maybe your Polysteron 250- an incipient form of all sexes A generic multi-functional organ we can use for digging into the fertile permafrost Where I keep my 2000-years-old love-hate viruses We don’t know how long it ...