my life is fiction,
a dream, I can’t wake up from.
my fictional heart hurts when broken,
and heals without scars.
my blood salty and hot when spilled.
…disappears…
a vague memory of you
coming and going away,
in waves. sometimes
I hear your voice…
I say “I love you” and words lost
before they touch you, disappear in echo.
dissolve into letters, drown
in my solar plexus.
a thought dies at conception in the webs of my mind.
a dog bites his tail reassuring its belonging.
he moves in circles, possessed
by desire to cross the line
of his fiction into reality.
I try to open my lips,
let the letters flow, mold the words,
“I love you”.
I remain silent.
© 2012 by Nina K Orlovskaya
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