I used to observe her jaw,
The masticating tightly closed mouth
That resembles mine,
A taste of tragedy.
And the cheekbones that held her entire face up,
In place, the eye sockets, the disappearing glance.
The evanescence of her disheartened skin
Against my own and we shone,
Together.
She murdered her own body slowly,
Her mother showed her how to do it.
She learned the dogmas against her will.
The mother would stick her into clothes
Wishing to bury her, disassociate from her.
The mother with a pillow in her hands,
The ten fingers ready to shove and pull and drag.
The female anger that wasn’t allowed to emerge.
The daughter a painful mirror-image.
She grew into her father’s shoes.
And never found out who she could have been.
I look at her ever-changing physiognomy
And she will always be safe and nurtured in my own body.

“Ophelia” by Albert Ciamberlani (1864-1956)
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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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