Midnight Lace

It is silence that does it … it rustles memories like the maiden lace left in your lap long ago. But you have forgotten, and can no longer feel your fingers which have grown stiff and useless anyway. I sometimes see you looking in your hands for a longest time. After a while palm of your hand opens to make slow, gentle movements; like you are smoothing bed covers over his sleeping body or curls of hair over his forehead. I see you steeling glances through the window at first dusk, waiting. Listening for footsteps … looking into shadows under the street lights. Teenage couple kissing, dog walker passing by. Silence.

You do not suspect me. Because you do not know that I have already written it … some months ago in my English class I did it. I used dictionary and all the words I can still remember. And so it is all out now and everyone can read it. I took the necklace with the medallion off in front of the mirror in your bedroom. It is in the box with letters. It is safe now. 

And everyone can read it now:

Knowing

I wish I could write a poem

full of love and laughter

and light

to wake you

from death and solitude

and dark

where they left you on their way

upstream

behind the enemy line.

I wish I could write a poem

full of rain and sunshine

and rainbows

like summer days in our village

where I stood for a long time

behind the train station

waving to a train

full of soldiers.

I wish I could write a poem

full of nights and sounds

and scents

of wet horses galloping beneath you through

meadows

before the

dawn

and your mother lighting a candle

in the window

every night

to pray.

I wish I could write a poem

full of songs and dancers

and music

and first stolen kisses in the doorway

of a dance hall

melting into each other like liquid honey

at the fair.

But I know

my wish is in vain

as I lie next to you in

death and solitude

and dark

unmarked

forgotten and

nameless.

Author: Daniela

Reader, Writer, Mother, Freethinker, Habitual Day Dreamer, Blogger - Sharing Ideas, Poetry, Prose, and Conversations on the Lantern Post!

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