verses in english - in a closed room, wailing

i. no sound

Silence is what happens when not a whisper
passes your lips:

they're parted but only breath goes
in and
out

the air is still as if
someone switched off the wind

the trees wait,
branches clenched,
for what is sure to come.

But nothing comes.

no sound no noise no stirring motion
no sweet nothings murmurred in someone's eager ear

in the cardiac ward
a man's chest heaves heavily but
it's quiet, his hold on life

the volume on the baby's wail has been
turned down low:

one day
when he's all grown up
he'll close his mouth when screaming.

silence is what happens when you press
mute on the remote:

then watch the actors move their mouths
like guppies, out of water,

struggling for air.


ii. memory
i want to write something beautiful, today:
i want to capture Florence
in a line, maybe two

then take her home with me
and re-read her
when the English sky speaks only in grey.

the sun: the hot sun—
i want to imprint it on the page

when i open this notebook
it'll blind my eyes... and I'll see only

Florence, Florence: always and forever,
Florence

in a dark room, quietly,
i'll move myself to tears

feeling nothing but the ache
of feet battered by cobblestone streets

seeing everything:
lampposts churches bridges people

so many people -
so many people in Florence:

tourists artists writers explorers
and the Florentines... i always forget the Florentines

here i am, ready to write something beautiful -
with just a hint of a tuscan accent

to allow me to re-fresh my palate
when english will have engulfed
my senses once more.


iii. untitled
I am the inaccessible vag.

Legs spread wide

At my desk – on the tube – on my bicycle when I’m
Feeling green and
Political

But encased I’ll still remain

Seven years ago my then-boyfriend
Made me wet in the pub
Stuck his finger up me and wriggled

I sat – I shuddered –
What a woman I was, in my
High-heel boots

What a woman I will be
When the cellophane

Finally comes off

The meat of my clit
Shiny

and new.