She Came Again

Posted on January 11, 2007 by Elizavetta


mask

She came again
to take the dark in hand
and comb it
into curtains of hair
and paint it
like broken shards of dream
on a face we both loved
too well to wear


Photo Credit: China Hamilton

Comments

  • remittance girl on January 12th, 2007

    Wow. Lovely and haunting.

    “The face we both loved too well to wear.”

    What an extraordinary poet you are!

    Hugs,

    rg

  • Elizavetta on January 12th, 2007

    Thank you very much, rg.

  • Magdelena on January 13th, 2007

    One day you must write on why truth haunts us so, on why it isn’t shiny and bright but is instead so dark and rich.

  • Elizavetta on January 14th, 2007

    Oh Magdelena,
    (Elizavetta says, groaning), must I? I was hoping maybe you had the answer to this question, actually.

    ;)

    Seriously, I wish I could write about this. But I’m afraid, being one of the haunted, I wouldn’t even know where to start. Except perhaps to merely point to it with poetry. Or any of the arts, including, of course, sex.

  • nina on January 15th, 2007

    I would have to agree with Lena, yes, you must.

    You are an extraordinary poet… I felt you.

    xoxo,
    nina

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