Autumn

Afflicted with autumn, the trees begin weeping, repenting by shedding their leaves in the distance, confessing their summer freneticalism, their sunshine-deficient character weakness. Perhaps the aching will continue still and gutters, ice-cemented, will pound the frozen window panes until the hands of spring would let them enter. And each following autumn chases you down the…

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Your Life Is Also Mine

Fading sound of guitars, skies colder above. Left behind us, how many songs! Two last cigarettes, coffee still in the cups. On the road home, you are always alone. Every past has expired, every dream slowly burnt. I am tired. Is there no one who can stand beside me and tell me, without saying a…

Premonition

A hundred years from now this street will be unchanged again – the flowerpots, the pavement, and the seven ancient chestnuts. Each morning trolley bells will wake the houses with the same refrain, and birds in trees will sing their concerts, festively. A happy woman will appear on the balcony, the fragrant smell of ironing…

A Warm Welcome

One octave full of silence plays. One mellow April afternoon. I hear the early bees, and they speak of the summer coming soon – upon the hour when the light begins to swarm, its breathing heavy, and winter painfully resides along the tips of grassy meadows. The barking of a dog. The sigh of blossoms…

Dual Citizenship

The country of the other life unfolds, invisibly and quietly existing across nine ocean laps of swimming distance and through one more – a bridge to the untold. To find it takes you centuries. Or mute, a moment on your knees is long enough. Words there derive from just one verb, “to love” and only…

Sometimes

Sometimes I stay too long inside the hour that lies between “I love” and “I desire.” I wonder, if these tracks were music sheets, what would the streetcar sing with morning’s choir? Within the space dividing “past” from “present” where thoughts of you are licking and caressing incessantly my palms, my eyes, and temples –…

***

My best acquaintances are those With whom I spoke no word Emily Dickinson Both love and enmity are known by the intensity of silence. With quietness we punish our foe, a friend rewarding likewise. We harbor silent tendernesses and disdains, subdued to hush by rage… Or otherwise, by pleasure? But once we slip a bit,…

Daybreak

Silence as long as eternity – almost a planet, created. Seems like from nothing, returning, into your arms I am staying. Briefly I travelled, yet distances bloodied my feet as they smoldered. Firm, the horizon is lifting sunrises over your shoulder. Dawn will descend its redemption into our pains intermingled, and I will find in…

Wish I Could Go On Without You

Searching patiently the house of my past to uncover what vanished through tapes and dusty old records – some piece of music, just a few notes that happened a while back, so many years ago… Truth is, I sought something recorded by chance when you laughed – twenty seconds of life. Wish I could go…

The Boy with the Exhausted Wings

The boy with the exhausted wings remains, the mirror doesn’t show a friend reflected. Betrayal is predictably effective. And guilt is carrying all too many names. The boy with the exhausted wings remains – and do you know him, son of angels fair? What happened to the common past you shared – did you forget,…