VICTORIA LAUBE

A diptych of trees and birds and sky, mostly black and white

Exfoliation Number 20, 2023.

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Exfoliation


What was it 

that we buried  

beneath the presumptions

and the assumptions?

What was it 

that we shoved and forgot 

under the clean and the tidy beds?

And what was it

that lurked  

in the heart of  those protracted silences,

unable to get out,

unable to push through?


I wish we had talked.

I wish we had been friends.

A diptych, one photograph of an old woman looking into space combined with a photograph of a broken window with red tape along the cracks

Exfoliation Number 2, 2023.

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Where were you?


You weren't here.

Where were you? 

Over there ... 

far away

beyond

over there ...

somewhere?

A diptych, one photograph of an old lady looking out a window at a reflection of herself and the other looking out of a window onto a rainy field with a sticky fly trap attached to the window.

Exfoliation Number 11, 2023.

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Time passed

for meaningful conversations.


We pasted on smiles,

and 

exchanged meaningless words,

and

our wounds stayed fresh.


I wish we had talked.

I wish we had been friends.



A diptych: one photograph of an old woman sleeping in a red Muskoka chair beside a forest, the other photo of a yound woman standing amond trees in a forest.

Exfoliation Number 12, 2023.

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You didn't know 

the way

and neither did I.

Pretending,

we ended up lost

to each other.

A diptych, one image of a sticky fly trap, the other a reflection in a mirror of an old ladysleeping

Exfoliation Number 21, 2023.

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 Silence


We were connected

by silence.

And now 

you - 

silent forever

and me -

silent no more.

Where does that leave us?


I wish we had talked.

I wish we had been friends.

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