Eros at the Train Station
There are trains at night stopping at stations, abandoned by switching yards, immersed in a deafening silence. Nobody listens to them but me. I am standing on the platform wearing a red coat, naked as a skeleton underneath. A solitary “Nude Bathing in the Moonlight,” awaiting a lover who never arrives on time.
The station-master’s home is all lit up, the moon is a tightrope walker on the cable, and I keep lying to myself. Maybe Love has fallen asleep in one of the carriages. From the poles shadows fall in lines. I roll them up as a ball of wool and knit myself a warm gray heart.
Eros has deserted me, one more time, tonight.
Alessandra Bava is a poet and a translator living in the Eternal city. She is the author of 4 chapbooks: Guerrilla Blues, Nocturne, They Talk About Death and Diagnosis. Her poems and translations have appeared in Gargoyle, Plath Profiles, THRUSH and Waxwing, among others. She has a new chapbook coming out from dancing girl press as well as her first poetry collection in Italian later this year all while she keeps working on the biography of a contemporary American poet.
The Ekphrastic Review
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