sábado, 23 de janeiro de 2016

Photophobia


From where I stand, I get nothing but a glimpse
Of what is behind the slightly open and freshly painted new door.
And, while not ready for it yet,
I know in my heart I should not shut it down.
I see this light, a small beam of light…

Sometimes, 
When feeling stronger, I get closer, 
And stare at it curiously, willingly, defiantly even; 
I let it shine through my fingers, 
I see my nails tinted in gold and it makes me smile. 

Other times, 
When feeling not so strong, I sit by the opposite wall, 
Keeping my distance and protecting my field of vision, 
Trying to understand what is it about this door 
That makes me want to enter. 

For now, 
Even if not fully formed, my thoughts show me 
I wish to see it through. In and out of this room. 
I want to see every particle, every ray, 
Reflected in dust, hail, smoke, and rain. 

Nicole Rodrigues

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