adagio for strings
how happy can one be
when rummaging within another’s
hidden sables?
is one death
not enough a right to peace?
i look at your hand,
the same hand that once
fed the blade with my blood,
now raking inside my name,
inside my very core,
searching for the reliquiae
of that which once you have forsaken,
and not even now,
when oxygen is just poison
and when a thousand masks
can barely hide my hollow eyes,
your fingers won’t give up
the delight of scratching the salt away
and exposing my constantly depleting iris
to flames…
you trace my silence
along the violin strings,
slowly cutting their swooshing
with the bow
and expect me to pretend to be alive…
but you should know
that i oathed to scar my words
if ever again they would turn against me
and towards you…
for the pain of losing you once
was exquisite,
but to lose you
again and again
would make it ordinary…
and nothing about you
ever was that way…
© Liliana Negoi
