I found an open book with empty pages – I saw the perfect shadow of a plane within its pages

in a surrealist dream bearing clouds – they heaved and reluctantly parted

I found a place – a center, a wish

I collected musky scents and remnants of clothes dropped on the floor – at times, I discovered smothered words like hidden coins – I held on to these tokens of no worth

steadying a flawless fire close to the cause of a deep wound – I assumed the exquisite pain and heady anger found inside the open book baring the outpouring of emptiness

In a vision I saw the perfect shadow of the plane vanish – clouds once more heaved – grunted and reluctantly merged – The open wordless book pulsated weakly

I had found the place of “gone”

I’ve forgotten with time the insides of scents or where I laid down the words like coins that were always lifeless

but I haven’t forgotten the haunting ache that soon ebbs as quickly as it flows…😔

©️ Beatriz Esmer