Chute

Chute

În seara de 9 ianuarie, înainte să mă culc, mi-am desfacut părul şi

el s-a lungit leneş pe pernă.

Cu dispreţ, nemilosul a început încet-încet să îmi umple capul de un miros discret de fum,

de norişori.

Încercau să mă năpădească, să mă răzbească.

Am inchis ochii, iar norişorii mei s-au topit imediat

în nunaţe de verde şi auriu

iar atunci am ştiut că am fost înfrantă

şi m-am înăbuşit.

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I miss you

I miss you

Right before vanishing you said

your heart was iced.

Couldn’t tell you mine was

flaming hot.

Can’t tell you now

I chased your last imprints

in the light as in the shadow

rampling in my room

and on the corridors.

So much that I could see

a ghostly figure

that appeared like you,

that would bring to mind

your footsteps.

I swear

I could hear them

hear you

approaching.

So much that I could black into the likeness of your tender green

Lush.

I gave a shot

to catch a glimpse

but the alcohol dashes

simply cannot

become

turn into

your lips

or your touch.

All this time I tried to associate your eyes

with

anything-desperately.

and when you’d be gone

I’d seek that exact same shade

to stare into

until

That was what I planned.

Now

I can’t breathe

into the shimmer of

phantasms

Wide-eyed.

 

Yearn, dream and typhlosis

Yearn, dream and typhlosis

it was this copper light drizzle

sinking in our pupils

(suffocating in each others’)

turning everything into

yearn, dream and typhlosis.

ah I could have begged

I could have crawled

and ripped my senses

(purpose, reason and despair)

and howl to this atrocious god.

he still wouldn’t even look at

still would even mutter

about all this yearn, dream and typhlosis.

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