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Full moon in my Kitchen

Poetic journey through time

Text and image: Emilia Scharabi

my bedroom

is it true that the love with you was

just a short pleasure

where did it leave me


my closed curtain

in a dark, I never chose,

never dared to dream about

on the mattress, where I lie

day and night

sometimes by light

sometimes behind curtain

and I lie when they ask me

are you in love with life?

and I dream so silently

from the past of shared hearts

reaching into the future

with longing fingers

of the child that I was.

On the doorstep

My heart expands and grasps the world so softly

as you speak to me

in rhymes and rhythms, pictures and poems

verses and lines

we come together past the night

into delight of daylight

sparks from your curls

into the lingering dark so gently broken.

When I turn, to find

half the moon

in your palm.


with your heart in my rucksack.

Let me, go. Be free, stuck.

Along the way. Meet you there.

By the road. In the trenches

of my coat,

will you carry me home

this time.

Call it paradise

– under the light of my kitchen bulb.

transit kitchen

and now I am sitting here

by the kitchen door

on a chair too small to carry

all my weight, feeling heavy

dreams locked in

the circle of the recycling bin

painted my destiny onto your body

while you were asleep

and now, I flee for the night

leaving my thoughts behind

with you

on my kitchen stool.

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