Ballerina
http://mispoetascontemporaneoseningles.blogspot.com/
On the pine wood cupboard,
in her reddish satin case
plated in chiselled silver.
Two initials and an arrow of rubies
like a full dress broach.
Inside, there lies the drowsy ballerina:
humidity, resembling
spilled tears.
Relegated by the fight
of a star-crossed union.
In your dreams you still taste
the once welcomed happiness
of moments without return.
Your cord was broken
Your heart was drilled
when years of passion became splinters.
©Raquel
Luisa Teppich
(Kellypocharaquel)
http://www.kellypocharaquelmdp.com.ar/
ver la versión en Español aquí

