Strand of hair
Strand of her hair lay curled …
… in the sink of my dimly lit bathroom,
where I saw her rushing last, to weep in private.
Or was it to wash the blood off her hands?
I lay lifeless, staring at her blurry silhouette.
It finally disappeared … into a deep silence.
I woke up to an unfamiliar rumble.
My eyelids looked deep orange from the inside,
tightening against a harsh bright light.
Occasional needle poked my numb limbs,
or may be it was just a chill over my sweating skin.
Her intoxicating memory still lingered.
I am now standing at the same bathroom sink.
My hands are involuntarily moving back and forth,
spreading unpleasant minty taste all over my clenched teeth.
A ruthless splash of water follows,
instantly overpowering my stubborn rebelling eyes.
The strand of hair has washed away …
