Photo ©️ Gilles Peress
~
Morgue.
Coldness.
Chilling air with dimmed lights.
Silence, random distant whispers.
Sharp smell of steel,
sound of steps over aged white floor tiles.
Screaming heavy old metal doors.
Frosted hair, like morning icy grass.
Colorless, lifeless skin.
Lips were grey, semi-open.
I think I kissed him last time.
Somehow that piece of memory is blurred.
Wish I could restore that part of goodbye.
Maybe I just want to believe I did.
Can’t remember it though.
I do recall his eternal beauty.
Frozen in time.
Forever.
Beauty.
~
Džemil Hodžić, September 2019
__