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Hoffmann's Nightmare MAG
A puppet, on strings of habit and expectation
 turns to me
 and says
 
 “Ah, ah.”
 
 “What is the sigh?” I ask
 “Tell me
 and with my gentle hands
 I will heal you”
 
 But the puppet
 she says
 
 “Ah, ah.”
 
 “Does it mean pain?
 Like a thorn in the side?
 A hook in the heart?”
 
 With body unscathed
 she says
 
 “Ah, ah.”
 
 “Sadness?
 Like a dying rose,
 A broken wing?”
 
 With tearless eyes
 she says
 
 “Ah, ah.”
 
 She lifts up wooden
 string-pulled hands
 to open up her chest
 like a door
 on creaky hinges
 
 I begin to shake and sob.
 Inside her chest
 there is nothing
 
 “Ah, ah.” she says “Ah, ah.”
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This article has 6 comments.
This is dark, and beautiful, and the diologue is splended.
I love it.
 
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