The Embrocation of Ferocity

The sound is gone.

But it will never disappear.

I carry your screaming within me.

The violence of your mouth.

The quivering lips.

And that I ought not to move, make a sound.


You were hunting.

You never needed much.

It was endless, the nights felt endless.

In the morning I thought I could have dreamt it all.

Erase it from my memory, my bones.

Your gallop in the house.


The pestilent smoke.

The rage and accusations.

I became an animal in front of you.

I had to learn how to survive.

And you disintegrate and lose yourself in fantasies

But I’ll always remember the nights

When I thought that I was going to die.


“Girl with flowers in her hair” by Isidor Kaufmann (1853-1921)

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