Florence Weinberger-IV
These Pictures May Be Too….
Do I shut my eyes?
Do I shut off the TV?
I prepare an indifferent meal,
heart split like Kahlo’s Two Fridas,
when the woman touches
my hands.
She was speaking
to a man in a white shirt
who is facing the camera.
Though he seemed to be translating
what she is revealing to him,
their lips are out of synch.
She turns to me, says tell him where I have been,
how far I have walked
to get here.
I lay down my knife, my fork,
reach inside the screen,
brush the flies away.
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