Twilight Poem by Raquel Angel Nagler

On the shattered floor of the day
We step barefoot
Among the useless fragments of words:
Fragile masks of our soul.
* * *
In the twilight of my hours
Life seems a silent milk
That leaves in my mouth nothing to say,
Only the quiet weariness of a nipple
That found its way home.
* * *
Newspapers are blown over our floors,
Like a written cry,
Fluttering between the fleeting and the final:
The two faces of fear.
* * *
The interval between the words
Transport my invisible tremble:
The secret breath
That lives and dies in my chest.
* * *