Uncertainty
The exhaustion of the lack of patterns
Once again
I’m left unsure on whether is you
Or me who ended hysterically laughing.
Which one of us got duped
Into a stranger’s routine.
A blinded deaf, losing her tactile senses
Dragging her shameful breath,
Excessive volume
And erratic pitch.
A pair of heavy feet
Sliding over ice cubes
Finally tripping over
into every gambler’s curse.
Another millionth last round,
An extra backup coin,
Another ace that leaves his hideout in the sleeve.
Sunday mornings
Like a flashing light amidst the heavy traffic,
Like the falling bell ceasing the year’s last eve.
The night of thrill of a nominated actress
The startling glance upon summiting the peak.
With the sight of your eyes
Got lost the desire to persevere.
And tears. Tears deluge despite the burning summer.
© Cecilia Padilla-Iglesias, 2021
