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

Historical Context It is not easy to enjoy in Victorian Literature. For some of the readers, it is impossible. Nevertheless, literature is not about making yourself enjoy in something, it is about finding where your socket is. Art has to be felt, not forced. Its behaviour is of a butterfly: easily crashed. Literature is a pattern that some simply perceive when others will never be able to get there. In my opinion, it is even more the case with Victorian Literature. Therefore, if you have tried it for a few times and it just didn’t work out, let it be for some time. Maybe a day will come when you too will be able to open your eyes for chimney sweepers, coal miners at the age of 4, white linen, weird illnesses in women and a huge Industrial Revolution that brought amazing changes into the lives and mentality of the 18th and 19th century people. Even though Victorian Literature was born and bred in England, its influence surpasses the frontiers and spreads across Europe and reaches other ...

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