7:30pm.
I go to this wooden porch
so that I don't have to sit in this wooden chair
I tell you that you are brave
And lift up your cold hand
Because she does not want to enter this room again
But I am not afraid
Because in this circle
There are no other words
Waiting ten seconds for breath
Questions become simple
Are you ok
Time becomes slow
Three in the morning
I tuck her in
There are photographs
There is this metal fence
Even though I don't have to hide my face
Even though there is nothing to say
This sadness is not my own
But there is no way to detach
No way to become removed
Everything is so present
Waiting ten seconds for breath
Driving at night I am not tired
And the next day everything is calm
There is light
A stillness
A new movement
And the next week there is only distraction
Phone calls
Boys
New York
Only before I go to sleep I can't forget
I see everything again
Sitting in this cafeteria
Lying in this bed
And I am not detached
I am sitting on my knees
Holding her hand
Waiting ten seconds for another breath
by Claire Schadler