Friday, January 18, 2008

Tina Demirdjian: Compact

She left her compact
blue and gold
lying upside down
in her drawer
in its white powder
something she always
wanted to tell me.
But her eyes,
now empty cups of milk
no longer remembered.

Inside was the mirror
full of powder
forty years old
opening for me
like a woman
telling secrets
of her flesh.

In silence
pink white flakes
covered my hands.
I bent down kneeling
to look further
inside her drawer.

Each time I opened
the compact
a sound, click,
of a half cricket
the sound of lips
pressing together.
There were whispers
In small breaths.
I clicked a kiss
in the mirror
of white powder
and became
a white curtain.

I was sheer,
a translucent flag
and saluted her
with all my flesh
and then
with the click
of my lips
her white body.
like the clap of hands
like magic
life vanishes
"dust to dust"
opening and closing
almost all at once.

Copyright Tina Demirdjian

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