Maria's Repatriation

She stood in line
tired after the long flight.
Tired but inexpressive,
reached the front of the counter rather soon.
A customs official
looked at the passport, looked at her.
"Anything to declare?" "No"
He stamped it, returned it to her.
"You can go"...

She headed for the exit
slowly, casually, indifferently.
Another official stopped her.
"Just a moment, please!"

She unlocked the suitcase.
The official emptied it on the counter.
A few dresses, skirts and blouses.
A couple of books, some personal items,
sandals, a pair of shoes, underwear...

"I detect disconnect", he said...
"Disconnect from emotions and thoughts,
even from parts of your body"...
"Bought them all on sale", she offered to clarify...
"We'll see about that", he cut her off...

He flipped and shook the pair of shoes
and immediately
scores of secrets,
unrealized dreams and unanswered questions,
a small quantity of guilt and a hint of shame;
moments of puzzlement, days of confusion, years of aporia
flooded the counter top;
and in their midst
her two decades of silence...

"All these, ma'am, are confiscated!
They belong to the National Galleries and Museums...
As for you, I'm sorry...
Entry cannot, possibly, be allowed!"...