It is your age that pulls away the veil
From eyes expecting so much more than seen.
And what you did or who you were prevailed
just briefly, what you are is just has-been.
Dreams are no more and even love is dreamt,
No longer hope of saving skin or soul
From surest damnation, all feelings spent
On make-believe things until they run cold.
Don't say it's sad, unfair or undeserved,
this is the only journey you will take,
at least you're here for now, a sentence served
with no purpose but solely for its sake,
to prove or disprove nothing, even less
an answer to the question: what's this mess?
Isabel del Rio is a writer and linguist, born in Madrid and living in London. She writes in both English and Spanish, and has published fiction and poetry. Her bilingual book, Zero Negative / Cero Negativo appeared in 2013 (Araña Editorial). She works for an international organization as head of terminology, and is currently writing a memoir.
Ms. del Rio appears here as part of the Torpedo the Ark Gastautoren Programm and I am very grateful for her kind submission of a sonnet written last year and, indeed, for the photograph.
Ms. del Rio appears here as part of the Torpedo the Ark Gastautoren Programm and I am very grateful for her kind submission of a sonnet written last year and, indeed, for the photograph.
