I pressed your body against my chest.
And I felt so ashamed, so lost, deracinated.
I was standing still and my thoughts were running away.
I heard your heart pounding and I ignored the sound.
I didn’t know how to look at you, how to hold you, close to me.
You let me go and I couldn’t move, growth started in all directions.
I don’t know where my childhood is situated in my body.
I cannot recover the voices and anthems and solitude.
I breathe in my own skin, my curdling body and I suppress
The urge to cry and torment me, alienate myself, burn bridges
Between me and the world. And I’m sure I won’t find my way in.
And I remember you, so far away, out of reach and I don’t dare to blink.
“Weiblicher Halbakt” by Anton Ebert (1845-1896)
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Published by Croque-Melpomene
Author of "Within Paravent Walls". Pentalingual Idealist. Hypercreative homebody. Self-exorcising Poetess. Creator of "Croque-Melpomene" & "Les Femmes de la Décadence".
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').
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