Benjamin Gonzalez

1994, Berlin
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She opens the door
I smell ash trays and cat food
Not looking at me she swings her arm inside
‘It’s been so long’, she says. I stay
A silhouette before the green-tiled staircase
Around my legs
A cat which greets me with a gentle brush

Both sitting at the kitchen table
We gauge each others hands, hers trembling
How similar they are. But mine are still
Her eyeballs erring in a bony cave. Smoke
Flowing out her lips. A dragon
Broken by bad luck and doctors
I want to mould an understanding face
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