broken eggshells

[…] your hand on my skin –
through your aura
transparent my pulse
flowing – a river of consistent
thorns perforating the sweat
salting the night.


your voice guiding my
silence under the layers of
some ordinary dark coating –
stars dance fiendishly –
air thickens.

“so soft…”

drawer inside drawer,
my mind deepens within
some Matryoshka doll forgotten
behind a corner beneath a
blanket below many levels

“it’ll soon be over…”

it is never over […]




© Liliana Negoi



hopefully enough you didn’t read the author’s note prior to reading the poem – and even more hopefully enough you understood that this poem is for the sexually abused children – which i (again) hope will become strictly a theoretic topic at some point in the future…


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