The calmness that came cringing.
How could the rain dare to disturb her rage!
How could the drops
that she smelled through the closed window
appease her wilderness?
The liquid sound of her sorrow
kept on competing with the cadence of tomorrow’s promises
for too prominent were the sharp edges of her emotions.
A box!, she insisted. I need a box!
As the dusty precipitation started dissipating
and corners of her roof snapped in response,
her stomach, empty of amalgamated answers,
kept on replying:
Feed her.
©Barbara Lima 2021
Thank you for reading! If you enjoyed this piece, please consider buying me a cup of tea. Your support is much appreciated!
If you liked this, you might like this as well:
