short story
october night
red lantern
our picnic
because you left
nature isn't clean
sewing in sadness
fantasy art






I want to erase you.

I will scrub you off.
me, a lonely madwoman
playing games of smile.
like a rude remark
made at the table,
I pretend I never heard you.

you and all my loves
scattered like hard bubblegums
that roll across the floor.
my hand too tiny
to catch them all.

if only I could clone
into three or four,
the way a spiderplant's clipped arm
in water grows new shoots.

but me an eggshell,
parched and cracked
- so many splinters -
I watch my naked feet.

© 1990 - 2003 Katharina Woodworth