girl in a window frame
between winter and violence
nature and man
Mother, help me out of this
nightgown, I need to survive
my mother needs to survive
this
you
I’m already there
I’m not here yet
and yet
and now
Mother, crawl, Mother, careful
walk over the roof
find the open window
she called her one day or night
the one time she opened up
shortly before her death
and said her biggest regret was
that she didn’t manage to murder her
say your prayers, Mother
everything fell into her
forever
buried
inside, deeply, irrevocably, silence
and I’d rattle and make noise
but no
nothing
no more
compartmentalised
four generations
on standby
Croque-Melpomene 