A Delicate Moment

She cut the wrists quickly while
she was watching the soap opera at 8 o'clock
and silence could think more than it should.
She did it without looking back,
without paying mind to what she was doing.

She cut the wrists of her dream
and bled only poetry.

Karla Bardanza


http://asmoonsewsthesatinstars.blogspot.com/

Published September 28, 2011 Write a comment
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PrEmJi PrEmJi
a real poet writes only with blood!
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T A Ramesh
Poetry is indeed born of best of mood or worst of mood; in this case the latter holds good here!
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Botan
Ending line was healing to me. nice
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