look for the lady in silk,
with casablanca on her hair.
reflections of yesterday
behind catatonic eyes
staring at something,
not seeing anything.
a batting of the eyelashes,
a flash of memory
kept in the deepest part.
a familiar voice from far away
heard within the confines
of four walls.
she smiles once in a while,
a remembrance of a
life once lived. a soul
struggling to move on
in a withering body.
she forgets what she
remembers in a split of a
second.
the other day, her children
dropped in for a visit.
her eyes became diamonds
at the sight of them.
then a sudden impression
of fear and anger washed them
away. she didn't know them
except for that moment
when it seemed that it's all
she'd ever known, watching
over them.
and then it turns into
something like diving
into the unknown.
she was so beautiful,
i held her wrinkled hands
and led her back to
a familiar world of cobwebs
and memoirs.
in her mind, she was 20
years old. as fresh as
the casablanca lily on her hair.
but her body's wilting away,
just like that lily would be...
soon.
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