BODIES BY THE OVEN
Daddy dear - will take my wooden box
in his steel arms
Another childless woman - there -
crying for him - for him -
his poor poetic soul - his crazy wives
At first the dream is only the usual sounds
then I wake up - in less than a minute I'll be dead
My mother's eyes are tight -
gone - and going too
although I know it was not my fate to die
Three years-old and destined to magic
but Mom cannot hear and I cannot move -
locked in the drunk embrace of a corpse who never loved me enough
not to live - not to kill -
because me - I don't count
My half-sister and half-brother will be there
in black - with Sunday faces
alive although their mother also died
They stayed and stay
just like me - not destined to cross
Who will find out?
Why didn't Daddy come to make love to Mom?
Instead he made her wail and cry
and take the mattress to the kitchen
and open the gas
She is gray and alone -
it's the last time I will see her
I arrange my body in her arms
kiss her forehead and wipe her tears with my tongue.
Less than a minute? Maybe. I am gone.
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