He abandoned her like a gutted fish, left her lying there.
In the stench of his affections, his degrading exaltations.
It was like he had killed an animal, desecrated its life, merely
For one part, the best one in his eyes and threw the rest away,
Life itself, a body, an entity, neglected and dishonoured.
And she rose from the cold ashes on her linens and still felt like a corpse.
She was convinced he’d left parts of him within her.
And that they’d eat her up slowly.
Everybody thought she was mad when she made perfect sense.
Nobody believed her tongue that was glued to his demanding body.
She felt him irritate her, murder her, from her insides, without proof.
He had exhaled into her, initiated an internal requiem that would start silently
And implode and work its way up her throat, never to be released.
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The pentalingual author of “Within Paravent Walls”, fin de siècle and décadence enthusiast, Laura Gentile, shares some of her blog with us each week.
You can find more of Laura Gentile’s Poetry & Prose on her website, Croque-Melpomene.
Reserve a copy of Laura Gentile’s debut novel here.
Subscribe to Laura’s YouTube channel.
