Mireille Astore

Flying

 

When your love for a man

slices your tongue to shreds

and the silence

bruises your lips

 

When your love for a man

drills a hole in your head

and blood is spraying your walls

 

When your love for a man

turns your shroud inside out

and calls on you to die

slowly once more.

 

Then it’s time for you

to search for your hands

Find them and swallow them.

Beneath scarred skin

 

They will reach your heart.

Pull at it, throw it

but don’t sit and wait

Stagnant blood no longer floods your veins

 

Go and dive

 

Go and fly

 

The wind is your wing

the sun your aim.

 

©Mireille Eid