You say:
my wife inhales water through her nose,
I don’t know if she’s turning into
a Mermaid or an Angel but I know
the transformation has begun.
She hoards thousands of butterflies in her pockets,
bronze sand-dunes fill her chest of treasures
and even though
I know nothing of Jungian symbols,
I notice the distant cymbals,
I can hear the shadows growing.
I see gaping tears in the four corners of the sky,
clouds dart into the room
when I open the doors of her cupboards.
Pure water gurgles inside the walls.
I can hear it when I get close;
It sounds loud like a waterfall
but I can’t find where it is.
I really don’t like her colourful birds.
They leave droppings everywhere
and she doesn’t clean the house anymore.
She just sits in a bathtub filled with rose petals
or cross legged on the kitchen table,
an otherworldly smile on her face.
Wherever it is that she is, I’m locked outside.
I find feathers between my teeth,
rose petals in my hair
and rays of sunlight on my fingertips.
When I touch her, she shines like gold
but she never notices my presence.
She says:
my Angel, please look at me,
for I am the bringer of gifts and dreams
your key to a priceless Paradise.
Daphne Alexopoulou 