Inside This Room


inside this room
A scattering of light

crosses my face – in
lines of darkness as
if you locked me here
for good – I touch
cold iron – rusted –
my palm feels its’ crust

No authority is heard
nor footsteps near –
where light crosses
for a moment it blinds
me from the strongest
point of light

A spatter as if a bird’s
wings swiped across
a window I cannot see,
birds –  birds sleep at night?
Is it night?

My body follows crust
on my palms until it hits a
cold floor – cement –
uneven to the touch
my clothing disheveled,
rumpled – I am not
haphazardly placed
together in this light

Am I owned by just being?
Am I a mistress?
Am I a resident for life?

I hear weaponry –
exploding in my head
In my head – I cover my
head with my arms and
hear, no more.

Will I recall this place

  1. Jane Muffay says

    I like the way your associative thoughts blend from one step to the next within your train of thought.

  2. Nancy Duci Denofio says

    Jane, thanks for the comment. I hope you have time to read some others posted here, I would love your comments to continue. You are kind to take time for other writers. Sincerely, Nancy

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Angie's Diary