Painting by Patricia Sanchez Flores

It's too late to clean the stains

on the window or darns the holes

for our eyes adjust to the dark.

The voice was soft but she still fears it

even though she has learnt the motion

of planets and how to curl time at night

when the tides of the past swirl in and on,

dragging her to ignored depths.

Her eyes were exhausted before

she could understand, digested and

metabolized everything but

who knows what she feels as

she transforms herself in a metaphor.

Silence and times execute what

was planned for she wasn't consulted

about fate.

And when she sees into

another lamb as they see out of her,

she hides words under her tongue.

Karla Bardanza

Copyright©Karla Bardanza 2012

That silence on her trembling lips was dear
As the sleepless night caressed her sad body
Once more, stealing a thousand dreams again,
Saying words she did abhor.

Vulnerable in that dark space,
Another lamb waited to be branded too.
Cold and half dead, she sat there while
Her untamed soul flew.

She dreamed to die at peace as
Those voices challenged her small fate.
But oceans were quiet and dry
And she didn't know how to open the gate.

When the fox ate the last lamb,
She knew she would be the next one.
With a whisper, she covered her mouth,
Praying to be dead before she could
See the sun.

The fox saw her blood and happily left.
She stayed there looking so bereft.
Who could save them if no one heard when they cried?
How many more crimes did the fox still hide?



Karla Bardanza