She hid her head in the embrace of her own body.
The bitterness of her heart affected her posture.
She grew up thinking that she could save the world.
Their voices crawled into her skin and claimed its warmth.
Their insistence would make her tremble, they had no soul,
They were made out of bones as sharp as swords.
Their joylessness haunted her, they needed to feast, and
Infiltrated whatever they could to get close to her.
Her efforts were counterproductive, they’d call her paranoid,
But she was the only one who recognised the old alchemy of deceit.
She understood their silly little games, what people do when they feel
Incurably empty and meaningless, they’d take it out on her skin.
“Isidora” by an ancient artist from Roman Egypt
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My name is Laura Gentile. I’m of German-Italian descent and I speak five languages such as English, German, French, Italian, Luxembourgish and I’m currently learning Romanian.
I hold a Master of Arts Degree in English Literature, Film and Visual Culture (Dissertation: The Decadent in Love with his Psychopomp: Thomas Mann's 'Death in Venice' and Adrian Lyne's 'Lolita') and a Master of Letters by Research in English Literature, Film and Visual Culture (Thesis: Romanticising Decadence and Aestheticising Death: Women as Projection Bodies and Mimetic Identities in Zola’s 'Thérèse Raquin', Schnitzler’s 'Dream Story', Süskind’s 'Perfume: The Story of a Murderer' and Eugenides’ 'The Virgin Suicides').
Author of "Within Paravent Walls". Pentalingual Idealist. Writer of psycho-corporeal Poetry. Creator of Croque-Melpomene & Les Femmes de la Décadence.
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Contact Email Address: croquemelpomene@gmail.com
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