TEMPERA.

TEMPERA.

It begins with

thin plastic moving

to the heavy panting

of the wind

as the clouds gather

the pieces of a dream

I can’t remember

I scratch away

the black tempera

to reveal an image

that already exists

in an eternal place

in an eternal time

I scratch myself

on the inside

to carve out a mold

that can host it

when it comes

to fill me up

and blend with me.

 

Little one,

your whisper is too soft

your voice comes from

my timeless depths

please, speak louder

so I can hear

your newborn scream

so I can once again

care again

about anything

but you.

Author's Note

What do you think this is about?

Reviews

[alifeacoustic]

I do not know, but it is very beautifully written. If I were to hazard a guess, I would say not a child, but your own voice or self. But that doesn't really cut it, because the voice that spoke these words is not a whisper. Thank you for sharing. I really enjoyed reading it.

[Sophie D (not the pornstar)]

Thank you so much for reading, I'm happy you enjoyed it. :)