CHEVAL À BASCULE EN FEU

She keeps the room
just as it was.

As if
Death had never entered it.

Still
turns the eiderdown down.

Still
straightens sheet.

Still
plumbs pillows.

Brings breakfast every morning
just like before.

But there is no before
anymore.

Even the future
has vanished.

One day it hurts her
this haunting.

The room has become
a shrine.

And she
its priestess.

So. She decides
to burn the past.

The wind turns the pages
as the books flame.

Dolls melt
in the witch hunt..

A rocking horse
is on fire.

"Go now!" she commands.
"These are only things!"

She hides her daughter
in her heart

where nothing
can touch her.

The fire reflected
in her tears.