Unarticulated Poem by Chen-ou Liu

A Haibun for Nadia

'We talked a lot, but he seldom listened: then I would get angry.' A faint smell of whiskey on her breath.

She continues to talk openly about her life. The sun's rays come through the cafe window on the side of her face. I notice a tiny bruise below her left eye.

'During the last months of our life together, we whipped each other; We thought we were talking - but, we whipped each other on our mouths; one word, one crack of the whip after the other.'

She pauses for a moment, then says in a matter-of-fact tone, 'Now, I like old men, but they sometimes talk a little too much.'

in the middle
of an awkward silence...
robinsong