Category Archives: Samantha Seto


Samantha Seto

The room has already rearranged itself.
Withdrawn and sore from heartache,
we are in rooms without walls.

Ancient videotapes line the shelves,
black water clouds sinks in the washroom.

Lipstick smears and make-up stains
trail the table counters in a mess.
Torn dresses are pushed somewhere in a closet,
leaky ceiling spatters my notebook.

Meaning of work turns to dust,
I watch children play outside our window,
roll my eyes, irritated at the voices.

Carving a thousand doves in wood,
humming lullaby song to myself.
Phantom in dark relief at my side,
blood runs between veins in pattern.

Echoing the stillness,
remember sitting alone for hours,
daybreak filters our ambling minds.

©2012 This work is the property of the author.

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