the fifth poem,
to the maid who should
have never died

you were too
kind and innocent to
d i e,

because the way
you died was
a v o i d a b l e.

i used to be angry
about the way you
d i e d,

but now i'm,
sad and
n u m b.

I've been
numb for a long
t i m e.

but what is
time within the
v o i d?

the void beholds
nothing but
i,

and i behold
nothing but the
v o i d.

i breathe
the void b r e a t h e s.

cloris,
if you could
see me now,
would you still
tell me i would be
a wonderful m o t h e r?

or would you scream
as you met eyes with the
monster who cost you
your precious, expansive l i f e.

i still picture you n o w.

how you looked on the eve
of the ball. dressed in one of my
gowns, but exquisite in every w a y.

breath taking from your first moment
until your l a s t.

the way you took my hand
with no fear of the contact between
monster and damsel,

it made me feel as if
i were no princess,

no monster,
no child of the v o i d.

it made me feel
as if i were quite
o r d i n a r y.

and that was
something i never
thanked you f o r.

so,
thank you, Cloris,
for you made me feel
ordinary, even if it was
for just one e v e.
-LUSINE ARGENT VOLKOV