Dust, spider webs,
frozen memories
old and demented,
left behind by the previous owners
residents of the Nursing Homes.
I wash images from your walls
layer by layer, day by day
until I see the white virginity
of your bones.
I will hang my images,
decorating your new emptiness.
One day you will bury it all
in the rubble of your corps,
while I look indifferently
into a blue sky,
through the glass
of a locked window.
© 2011 by Nina K Orlovskaya
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