The Lemon In The Egg Saucer Poem by Cristina M. Moldoveanu

the small woman from the attic sits
cross-legged with her pink plastic
hair rollers for hours. her life spins
like the spool of thread on the sewing
machine. she sleeps wearing a flowery
morning gown in the room with a flowery
wallpaper and a secondhand carpet
imitating autumn grass. she boils her
lime tree tea and dairy free pasta on
the electric boiling ring. she washes
her hair with nettle essence shampoo.
once a month she goes to the central
store to see new dress designs then
she reads at midnight group portrait
with lady. in a sideboard she hides
a pair of perfumed lace gloves the
color of the skin. she wears them when
the spring wind blows. on a shelf in
the kitchen a grated lemon in an egg
saucer is slowly getting dry.