You spoke of cherry blossoms, a higher state of oblivion, a detachment not only in word, but deed. As I listened, my past danced before my eyes, bringing back the ugly, unforgivable infractions I had committed throughout my years and would continue committing as long as I lived. Once you made me cherry blossoms from cigarette paper, and I realized beauty was part paper, part glue. Now, the blossoms have faded, and my photograph no longer looks like me. I stare at your silence, share in your oblivion.
A. Molotkov / About Author
Born in Russia, A. Molotkov moved to the US in 1990 and switched to writing in English in 1993. His poetry collection, The Catalog of Broken Things, is just out from Airlie Press. Published by Kenyon, Iowa, Cincinnati, Massachusetts, Atlanta, Bennington, Tampa, Raleigh, New Orleans and Cider Press Reviews, Pif, Volt, Ruminate, 2 River, Sequestrum and many more, Molotkov is winner of various fiction and poetry contests and a 2015 Oregon Literary Fellowship. His translation of a Chekhov story was included by Knopf in their Everyman Series. He co-edits The Inflectionist Review. Please visit him at AMolotkov.com.