The room is white.
A single vanity light shows the
way. Her hennaed hand caresses
a blue jewel on the necklace,
lets it fall over the gown.
Lifting a single black hair
stretched to its length she
lets it fall to the silver floor.
From the magnolia tree,
a leaf, edges curled, the
slightest shade of gold;
caught by a child.
Turning off the light she invites darkness.
It falls across her reflection
as the last of the light lingers in the mirror.
A question inhabits the dark,
tracing the arc of a demise;
the shattering of a glassy mind,
-paper thoughts fall like lanterns
in the air.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem