I’ve taken a cross with me.
Made of wood.
And it’s not that heavy.
But it’s confusing:
when I search for a heart
I touch wood.
A crucifix-noose.
I squeeze my throat, neck.
Then you bring a heart.
A stone-childlike one.
Genuine. Green-blue.
Firm.
Shall I take it?
Place it between my teeth?
Under my tongue?
Should I shut up?
Not enough for you?
And other salutary walks
Learning Grammar
The Third Square
To Himself
A Special Condition
A Romantic Statement
Young Russian Girls
Mistake
Breaking the Habit
Cruising
Once Upon a Time in Belgrade
The Third Square
To Himself
A Special Condition
A Romantic Statement
Young Russian Girls
Mistake
Breaking the Habit
Cruising
Once Upon a Time in Belgrade
AuthorDejan Matić