I wash my dishes
the long knives
warm under my hands
smooth like my dreams
and as sharp
I dream of love with no loss
of sex with no regret
no misunderstanding
I dream of beginnings
of motion
also of stillness.
I stand here in my kitchen
my hands
curdling in the water
not hoping, dreaming.
 
 
© Esther van der Vyver

day 4 | 9 June 2011