the lemon in the egg saucer

the small woman from the attic sits cross-legged
with her pink plastic hair rollers for hours. her
life spins like the spool of thread on the sewing
machine. she sleeps wearing a flowery morning
gown in the room with a flowery wallpaper and
a secondhand carpet imitating autumn grass. she
boils her lime tree tea and dairy free pasta on the
electric boiling ring. she washes her hair with nettle
essence shampoo. once a month she goes to the
central store to see new dress designs then she reads
at midnight group portrait with lady. in a sideboard
she hides a pair of perfumed lace gloves the color of
the skin. she wears them when the spring wind blows.
on a shelf in the kitchen a grated lemon in an egg
saucer is slowly getting dry.

Categories: My Poems in 2014 | Tags: , , | Leave a comment

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