Stains by Marina Zrnic©

Foto de Engin Akyurt: https://www.pexels.com/es-es/foto/arte-textura-abstracto-resumen-14822899/

From our window

wet and hollow

my son and I see a chimney.

Smoke and rain

we are soaked with your lies and pain.

Of couse we had it

it was real

our stars and ice-creams

comebacks and departures

we ate salt together

we had a son.

These last few weeks

of hospital smell and piss in it

I have seen

a boy cleaning a flat with his mother

a husband two years older than I thought he was

a man who buried his father alive

a husband who chooses not to utter a word.

I wear your ring and your sorrows

since the day I met you.

Your illness is a dark tunnel

that sucked me in and drowned me

in a wast pool full of fog.

In it I sit at the bottom

among gauzes dressings injections

a pool full of pills and blood

white coats and intravenous drips

that stain my soul

drip drip drip.

I miss you so much.

I miss your endless chats with me

I miss you to throw out the garbage

to see you coming out of your dusty car.

Smile, I miss your smile.

I miss you to fill out the void in my soul

to fill in the black hole

tell me that all will be fine.

Through the sound of waves

I see us

at the seaside eating prawns

our son is playing in the water

screaming and splashing

you are reading a book next to me

and the tunnel is illuminated

by one candle that is never blown out.

Comments

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