your night letters are long gone –
or, the yearning strengthens the grip
of time… I don’t know, I like to read you
with your words correct and smart, sometimes
scribbled fast but important nevertheless,
nevertheless… important… your words…
our night intertwines are long gone –
nocturnal cobweb has covered your
window: I blow it away occasionally, occasionally
I move it, as if brining the window to life…
I set little fires, once in a while I look behind you,
your traces through the space – long ago
I only talked to myself in the nights, hoping
that somehow, quietly, in the warm, you will hear me…
so I start your day with a smile, a soft smile.
from So Yes poetry collection “Дека да”
PUT ME IN THE BOX WITH EVERYTHING
YOUR SCENT REMAINS EVEN AFTER YOU’RE GONE
LETTERS FULL WITH SILENCE (while you’re asleep)
A LETTER. FOR YOU.
WRITING
I’LL SLEEP (I love it that the night is a woman)
TWO THINGS, TWICE (when you wake up)
I HAVEN’T TOLD YOU, I THINK…
THE YEARNING STRENGTHENS THE GRIP
YOUR SCENT REMAINS EVEN AFTER YOU’RE GONE
LETTERS FULL WITH SILENCE (while you’re asleep)
A LETTER. FOR YOU.
WRITING
I’LL SLEEP (I love it that the night is a woman)
TWO THINGS, TWICE (when you wake up)
I HAVEN’T TOLD YOU, I THINK…
THE YEARNING STRENGTHENS THE GRIP