She's walking into smoke
again and her mind swirls,
avoiding linearity,
stretching over
the repulsive night.

i am afraid when her eyes
is a force against me
and release the past in
small clouds of self-pity.

we are together beyond

any human emotion.
maybe we are a knot.
a symbolic union,

she's smashed.
i pick up the pieces,
and try to glue 
her dangerous brain.
i can hurt myself:
it's a sharp weapon,
a silenced pistol.
it's her self-flagellation
haunting us.

and as 
the uninvited light of the moon
invades the room taking us
hostage, i shout at her,
shivering inside,
vomiting words
i myself don't believe
because she's my flesh,
my absolute pain,
the face beneath my face.

karla bardanza

for my daughter:the light of my light

Copyright©Karla Bardanza 2016Photobucket

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