Written by: iolanda Scripca

Eyelids heavy with memories Cover lights and shadows of a hospital in ruins. A baby with grown-up fingers Reads the past in Braille Barely touching the meaning of broken cobblestone streets of her past. Her fingertips retract like eyes of snails back into the present Where handsome men - immoral in their animalism - try to understand LOVE for the very first time. Great White sharks kill tri-athletes and place them in immortality as writers reach the end of the journey frustrated by their lack of gills ... The torrid yellow burden rolls down incinerated crystals between her breasts She senses people as zigzags with burglarized drawers rhythmically roaming up and down the Riviera... The ocean breeze murmurs: “ Michelle, my belle...”, “ I love, I love you, I looove you...” Invading her nostrils with the aroma of freshly brewed coffee and the smell of barbeque that, once she could digest. The sun drops gold coins into the turquoise as they ricochet into her degenerating eyes. I see myself in her from the above as unscrupulous tides rip open our sandy abdomen Violently sucking my body's sand sculpture back to the undertow. It's almost dusk and seagulls fly through me to a secret shelter I wish I had... I'm scared to fall asleep as I might wake up without wings while numbness's taking over my bleeding shoulder blades... "The body of a peddler with broken clocks on sale was found tonight on the landing pad of a hospital in ruins"
for Deb's contest "Real, UNreal or SURreal "