bistroteque

The sound of knives and forks in the background
unsaturated & sharp—
lurks in my mind, across the table
I wrap the white cloth against the edges
watching how countless little threads stick out & 
tease the air
Their commonality & tears
spill like lagoons of silence 
between us

I lie to you, yet I remain truthful
counting the stains of fat on the paper in front of me,
pulling it closer and closer, until the glassware starts to fall in slow motion
over my knees

(the fruit in a jar)

I’ve placed myself between two concave spoons—
one distorts & the other emphasises my features
The Positive Illusions
a mirage in white & brown.



By Lera Kelemen
@lerakelemen