BRIEF NOTES (1)

Yesterday I burnt a sheet,

with the iron,

did it myself,

embossed a burnt-toast coloured triangle on it

thanks to the TV.

I always keep the small TV on in the kitchen

when ironing beckons:

A black child from a war

suckled his dead mother's breast.

I felt like I'd swallowed a ball of hair.

I won't forget it:

milk seeped into my bra.

© Miren Agur Meabe