Kinga Nowak Barbary Daniela… Roll her around in your mouth, Dah-nie-la The only soft thing about her Was a string of smoke, a column of ash Daniela Smooth as Stockholm Syndrome She points over to a woman Piled in the corner like dirty linen Barbary…That’s where they lived like match-sticks That’s where it went down…the anchor and the dead She says all this from behind the cumulus Generated by her lungs and foul mood The swell under her eye, shrinking Just a purple puddle of busted blood Spreading over her cheekbone like an ink stain The woman’s skin is a waterfall Complete with ripples and whirlpools Her cheeks so water logged that Laughing requires she drop her bottom jaw Only her eyes shimmer Like two sinking coins Daniela pulls at her cigarette, the ash Gaining Fast Barbary…she whistles softly When they found her, her feet were bloody That’s what happens when you run out On time. *The above poem was printed in a self-published chapbook "Losing Puck" through the blurb.com website.
13