Our life. Over.
From the back cover:
Our Life. Over.
Our life is hard and it’s nothing. It can’t reveal the losses, the grief hidden from everyone's eyes, the misery that seeps into waiting at the bus stop, into the morning paper, into the line to buy strawberries picked just this morning. Into the constant search for freshness.
Our live is hot. In the morning I cook soup on a small flame, getting ready for the sunset. Such an illusion. Sights fall apart in front of me, fiber by fiber, refusing to look directly, not to get blinded. Maybe it would have been better to freeze before everything started to leak like that.
Our life is over. Repeating an ancient stoning that knows no satiety. Our body resists no matter what. We stretch it and it devotes to us. Sometimes a gate opens like a promise. We come and forget to be sad and forget to fear and forget that we will remember at once.
Our live, honey, our life. More and more we gather in the hive. If we go out - we will float. When you anoint me, there is no world other than us. You ask me if I watered the plants, I ask you if you called the technician, we both borrow time. Again and again we chisel each day.
Our live is bigger than life. In the evening we lean on purple mugs, saving each other, ejected to some point in space, with the scent of an apple pie, a small tear in the azure sofa and white clothes that wave at us from the window, sprinkling surrender.
Our life. Over. is a mature, rich and multi-layered book of poetry. In her poems, the poet presents an honest, sober and heartfelt picture of the episodes of her life, and observes the various configurations of the concept of family. Experiences of disintegration and fusion, of the absence of words and textual healing, of fragility and resilience are placed side by side in the poems.