The Fugaciousness of an Ingénue

They tell me that whatever you put

Into my head will remain and fester.

The marks on my body heal mercilessly.

The mind takes much more work and time.

Your footprints are all over my brain.

And I threw myself into the arms of men like you.


She looked devastated, alive and awake.

Dragging a concluded choice ahead of her.

Waiting for you to kill it, but you were blind.

She wanted something that had been stolen from her

When she was a little girl. Her hands would always reach out.

But they all put it out of reach. Until she couldn’t see it anymore.


Portrait of An Overtoom” by Leo Gestel (1881-1941)

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