12:27 a.m.
tuesday noon —
bedroom to kitchen
***
i awoke. head
throbbing with
the zest that i
experienced
last night. i lay
still for a while.
under these
blankets that
bundled me.
safe within
these walls.
away from the
outdoors.
for the first time
in the past few
weeks. i slept
due to the lullaby
of the waters.
a change to the
constant screams
of the ghosts and
dead memories
that kept me
awake till 3:45
a.m.
i decided to exit
my safe haven of
walls. its noon.
i am safe. safe.
safe to eat. i am
free. for a while.
my naked feet
padded these
empty halls with
chipped-painted
walls. tangled hair
in tow and a
nightgown of
silk that cuddled
my frame.
scrambled egg
with cheese for
lunch. oh, what
a treat to cook!
***
YOU ARE READING
Our Vintage Dance on the Phonograph
Poesía"you and - me, we traversed at the eve of the colossal pages of our bedroom balcony." - excerpt there is no other dancing partner i would dance with other than you, my sun. you bring me to places that are wiped out of history - to the gardens of rui...
