Tolstoy’s Muse
You head to the train station holding your purse but no suitcase. Lips tightened,
you run along the tracks to kiss your last Muscovite Lover, Death. The horse’s
nostrils blow steam as you hold the reins of the suicidal drive, Karenina. Your
unmade Beauty lies now amid iron bars holding a carmine ermine muff hiding
the whitest hands. Прощание*…
*Farewell
Alessandra Bava holds an MA in American Literature and is a translator living and working in Rome. Her poems have been published several places, including Poetry Quarterly, elimae, and The Turnstiles Review. She is currentIy writing the biography of a contemporary American poet.
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