Morning thought, paula robles nettel

Morning thought
paula robles nettel

Naked breasts,

naked face

bathroom mirror

window of two worlds,
before facing the world
she always looks at them,

her breast,

big, plump, still ripe.
Her neck, her face

soft waves of dunes in her forehead.

Puppet lines,

the full contour of her lips.

Brown reindeer eyes

looking back at her.

How to measure eternity?

The morning always asks.

In the minute in front of herself,

naked breast

naked soul

only a mirror between them.

While she looks through her own eyes

the unbearable minute comes,

unfolding stories

memories, memories

happy painful memories.
Passing sixty seconds,

she sighs at her reflection,

reconciles with resignation.

She then takes her clothes off
she looks at herself

her land of one visible scar.
Other wounds, other scars

live hidden in her heart,
her daily battle ground
happens in her mind
How to measure eternity?

One minute? Five years?

Until death erases this path?

One, five, death

they all weight the same.

She walks into the shower,
the soothing water calms her fire,

she will have to make again today

something simple of herself.

She closes the faucets,
warmth comforting vapor

ten, thirty, sixty more seconds,

the cold world outside awaits

a sigh escapes from her mouth,

just before opening the doors

yours is her morning thought.

 







Stavanger 12/13 January 2015
I-I-I