Gnarled Forest
“You have finished on your own
what no one ever started.”
― From Diana’s Tree, Alejandra Pizarnik
I dream mother is sleeping in her ochre bedroom; herringbone parquet floors, the curtains drawn to keep the intense heat out.The room, a gnarled forest. The wallpaper cream white with tiny blue flowers in a symmetrical pattern-Lavandula Angustifolia. Two small table lamps with heavy chains on each side of her king size bed. She calls my name. I go to her room to help her get dressed. I carefully choose her gown (tropical green with prints of palm tree leaves and flowers of paradise), her striped black summer shoes, her pearl necklace, her rings. I even suggest a deep carmine red for her lipstick. She looks at the mirror and then glares at me. She tries to speak but I can’t hear her. I wait while she adjusts her earrings. She knows she has been dead for more than two years. She gently touches the mirror. Do I look nice in this?-she asks.
Leonardo Boix is a poet and international journalist from Argentina. He has lived in the UK for almost 20 years. He is the author of two collections Un lugar propio, (Letras del Sur, 2015) and Mar de noche (Letras del Sur, 2016). Both books have been published throughout Latin America. As a journalist, he has published in The Guardian, The Morning Star, The Miami Herald, as well as all the major Latin American journals and newspapers. His twitter page is @leoboix