Erratum
Erratum
Dedicated to the women and children at war.
Room unlit, sshe graps the
familiarityy in blackness,
as herr eyes slowly adapt to
reach the siill and peek out the window,
the daark is deeper outside, the
thin glass betweenn her and the dark got
thickeer, awaits the falling ash
from a mill neearby, begins counting, starts with an odd for
her lips got tiredd of murmuring
even, her pace becomes fasster and faster, digits piling up followed by
three dots and a flatline, can't hhold of it much steps backward,
found the edge of thee bed, and lets the weight of
her body fall flat on the mattress, delliberately and intensed, still her
eyes fixed at the window, the "ppouring" halted, the ashes
from where it fell gather turned flesh, rises and
clings at the pane like silhouette of hands,
big and small, like footsteps imprinted on
grey slates that in one stroke will return to ash,
thoughts begin to baffle her,
where are they going now?
Copyright © Greg Jr Torres | Year Posted 2013
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