I stared at her broken body
And revived her in my memory.
I had always kept her alive.
The world would never come between us.
What her body did.
Her hands, her history.
She was a different woman in my arms.
I look at her from afar.
Trying to find my traces on her.
Catch her scent amidst hot air.
What bound us together,
What made us forget the world around us.
And when I thought that we were living,
We were disintegrating together.
I would never get close to her.
She moved all the elements within me,
Refined me and when I forgot all about myself,
I lost her and the world took her back.
She had always known that her end was near,
An ending of us that I could never predict.
“Magdalena Plach” by Hans Makart (1840-1884)