Singer

The singer visited the city once the scent of rain sweat and blood scoured her entrails

In the house she roams from room to room pondering the fate that has befallen her

the walls swelter water rivulets

she breathes the movements restricted the clothing glued to every pore no respite

 

says

Our sister lives in a faraway city near a lake. She has learnt the language and she says she likes the crisp days of winter and the grey sky. She has sworn never to come back. Sometimes, we receive a postcard with all the buildings painted in black. We know it's her. Mother does not allow us to talk about her, Father looks away into the horizon. Her room is closed, only the maid goes in to clean the dust off.

Eight

eight months pregnant and no home to speak of. He thinks I have betrayed him. It was only an act of mercy: the poet needed company to stave off death, I laid down next to him. That is all. Now I am wandering the streets with this cargo. I am a ship with no port.

mud

The road, unsurmountable, twisted, breaks the car. Trapped in the rain and the mud, our sister prays for her future. She gets out of the car, walks towards the river.

We say goodbye