
Irena Raičević
Irena is the sum of her experiences. Good, bad, any… She gathers them all passionately and hopes to have a valuable collection when she grows up.
Some of those experiences were:
The Treasure of the Sierra Madre by B. Traven,
Trip - an anthology of American beat poetry,
The God of Small Things by A. Roy,
The Cyclist Conspiracy by S. Basara,
The Unbearable Lightness of Being by M. Kundera,
and everything by Amélie Nothomb.
Strings
Searching for
eyes that scorn
that scorch
A consuming
haunting stare
Searching for
words that burn
that pierce the skin
rip flesh from bone
With cold indifference
calculated malice
Searching for hands
that freeze
Fingers
that claw and rip and tear
Fingers
that cherish and caress
that torment
Searching for
a slender, sharp body
tight and hard
pressing against me
in the night
Finding
Him
Every night
Eyes that glare
A stare
cutting through the soul
Finding words
which hit where it hurts
the most
until I surrender
Feeling a body
on top of mine
His breath on my neck
His nails in my back
Burning sweaty thighs
against mine
I struggle
He doesn’t stop
I scream
He doesn’t cease
Yes
No
It’s all the same
I have no say
He leads the game
He’s panting and moaning
Pushing against me
Stronger
Grinding with lust
Relaxing and resting
His whole weight
on his plaything
I am his puppet
Dissolving and melting
I open my eyes
No bony flesh
No icy fingers
No scorching breath
No pleasure, No pain, No passion
No Him
No Nothing