*** (if you follow me tonight)

if you follow me tonight

and we enter together this

small

and dark

room

I might tell you

how much

I hate this city
with buildings
ill from dwarfism
so far
far away
from the sky

I might tell you
how all of the streets
are too narrow
and leave no space
to be

I might tell you
about the nights
flowing in the limbo
out of time
but so much
in space
here
here
never somewhere
else

you hold my chin
upwards
when I try
to push you
out

- into the streets
and the draft
feels like
the breathe
of a stranger

(horrible

awful

town)

nights that are not

it's a shame

you won't stay for the night

just to sleep next to me

and maybe trap my hair

under your shoulder

you could touch my spine

with your knuckles

or blow some warm air

into my ear

it might be

I would throw my leg

over you

or even

press my fingers
to your cheeks
press my lips

to your forehead

- when you are

asleep

it's a shame you are not
asleep
next to me

I like to think about numbers because then I don't have to think about us

I will think of the number

between 1 and 10

and this number will be you

we both know

it can't be even

- just because you are

so odd

and nothing about you

can be divided by

anything else 

but one

or by me

we both pretend

that we are asleep

at night

and it could go unnoticed

if it wasn't for all the bruises

under our eyes

that grow bigger

and bolder

every morning

I will think of the number

that later on

you will press into my ear

with your breath

(another sunrise)

autumn

we have been walking

between the raindrops

for the whole night

and I could see

your lips turn blue

but haven't done anything

even though

my fingers could

nearly touch yours

all that water

and all that night

made you small and weak

you cracked

and fell into pieces

- now I could see

your eyes following me

from every puddle

and from every

dark and blind window

I have extended
my arm
and allowed water
to gather
inside my palm
it almost felt
like holding your hand
so cold
and so blue

sleeping

when you are asleep

you throw your arms

high above your head

and your hair

always looks like a

a dirty halo

but

for sure

you are a sinner

even in your dreams
how the hell
your dreams could be good?
that's what
dark shadows
under your eyes
tell me every day

to wake you up

I spill water

on your forehead

un-...

At dawn there is something unfinished about the light: it’s weak and faded. It spills on everything around like milk and it’s a little bit harder to breathe, a little bit harder to walk, a little bit harder to see the horizon line and the rising sun. In a way I am also unfinished, half empty and out of focus. I shake out a cigarette from the pack and light it up. The flame has a colour of ultramarine. It’s only few shades darker than my eyes.

Memory [raw]

I can’t sleep. I don’t sleep. I have already got used to that. There are so many things that you can do at night-time. Tonight Te is here. A moment ago he gave me a weird look. He asked if I ever turn off the music. He also asked if I ever go to bed without the book. “No”, I answered out-loud and then I thought to myself that of course I never do those things. First of all it would be pointless. Second of all – if I ever stop, I will die. I will perish. I will disappear. I will be gone and all that’s left will be a cloud of disorganised atoms. So – no, thank you. I rather stay awake. I am already used to that.

But I said only this stupid ‘no’ and that was it. And then Te was sleeping and I have lied in bed and smoked cigarettes. I probably was a little bit angry for the fact that he is here, asleep, and wondered why hasn’t he gone home (or at least to the other room) - even though I knew exactly why. So I have grinded my teeth and waited for the sunrise. I can do it this way as well.

When the sky outside my windows started to turn grey, rainbows fell from the ceiling. They got entangled with my hair, coloured my cheeks and for a moment it felt as if I was gone already. There was only blinding technicolour and white noise in my ears. I started to count quietly (and if I am counting, something is counting and then this something must exist; something has to chew on this mathematical mantra and maybe this something is even accenting prime numbers and pushes itself farther and tries not to miss any of them). 789 – and suddenly I am back. I am. Back. Te sits on the bed and stares at me with his child-like eyes. I want to ask what’s wrong with him, but for a moment I can’t speak – not yet. I sit up and light a cigarette. Te is still staring. I really wish I could punch him but I stop myself. “What?” I finally manage to mumble out. He loudly swallows and points at my left arm. I follow this gesture with my eyes. My arm is gone. FUCK. I finish my cigarette in the complete silence and then I close my eyes. I start to forget. I start from the moment in which we both look at the lack of my limb. Then there are numbers and rainbows. There is night and there are cigarettes, there is an estranged look from Te. Just in case I go back few more hours – I forget everything that happened since last morning…

There is coffee. That’s a good start. Alla sits on the sofa with absent eyes. Her hair is a mess and all the eye make-up is smudged on her cheeks. “How are you?” I ask while searching for clean mugs. “Exactly how I look… How do I look?” and without thinking about it she straightens up and buttons her shirt. There are love bites on her neck – just above the collar. “Fabulous, darling” – and maybe she would believe me, if only I would look at her. But I am busy trying to make coffee for us. I feel some movement behind my back and suddenly two hands land on my shoulders. I try not to move – I freeze. It’s already bright outside and it’s so hard just to be; it’s already bright outside and I really don’t want to be touched. And most of all – I want to have a cigarette.

She moves away in silence and gives me a long look – searching for something in my face. We stand in this grey unfinished light and none of us even blinks. Finally she shrugs her shoulders, puts on a jacket and goes to the door. Good. Our paradigm remains unchanged.

I finish my coffee. I spend several minutes looking for my left shoe. I finish another coffee (the one I have made for Alla). I leave. On the staircase I pass one of my neighbours. I nod to him, he mumbles something unrecognisable. We don’t look each other in the eye. I push the front door and suddenly blinding sun swallows me.

Ka sits on the bench and in the nervous manner turns pages of some book. He bites his nails. I stop in front of him and my shadow fills in all the white spaces between the printed letters. I pass him a paper cup with a coffee. He raises eyebrow and looks at me a little bit longer than he should. “You look like shit” he comments. Then he closes his book and puts away to the bag. All this movement is a bit too fast for me – I still haven't managed to catch the title. We sit on the bench in silence and look up at the sky: all this ultramarine and all this brightness floods our eyes and rolls through our heads. I squint and look at the air we breathe out. It’s also blue – it swirls softly with the smoke that exits through our noses. I could sit like that much longer – without unnecessary words, just watching all of that – maybe this peacefulness of our cells and this distant murmur of our blood would become permanent… Maybe it would change me into something new and better… But the moment passes together with the cough that shakes Ka’s body. We slowly get up and start walking towards the river. I pretend not to notice droplets of blood on the inside of his hand.

One of the twins brings beer to our table. Everyone is speaking at once: wind scatters these words together with the smoke from our cigarettes. Hidden behind my own eyelashes I watch Ka: his grey eyes and grey cheeks. To be honest – everything about him is grey today (maybe except his lips, which are so red, as red as the poppies that you can find on the meadows, as red as the sunset two days ago, as red as the blood hidden inside of the palm of his hand). Prim` and Double Prim`` start to laugh so hard that the whole table starts to shake. Beer spills from the glasses and now the whole surface resembles lake – it changes colours in the sun and refracts the light and our breaths, our thoughts and words. I extend my hand, just like in the dream, to save pack of the cigarettes. And my phone. But most of all – cigarettes.

Te appears from nowhere. He pats Ka on the back and I can only bite my lip when I see it because I imagine all the damage this gesture can do to Ka’s insides. Prim` or Double Prim`` gets another chair, I get up to bring another round.

All the green and brown bottles shimmer above the bar. I stop for a moment on the doorstep – exactly where the border between the light and the shadow is running. I squint and let all the air from the lungs out. I straighten all of my fingers and spread them as far from each other as I can. “2, 3, 5, 7, 11, 13, 17, 19, 23…” I count quietly and in concentration. Someone very softly touches my neck. “29” says Te and closes my hands. We stand like this for a minute or two and I watch how sun rays build a halo around his head, how they penetrate his skin and warm up the blood in his veins. Somehow it makes him look like a saint. I don’t even know when I start to cry.

They are discussing some pressing problem of the contemporary world: how the Universe is expanding or maybe how the Equation for Everything should look like. I look at all of that from under half-closed eyelids and don’t really pay much attention. I start to blink in a way that will synchronise it with my own breath. Every time I close my eyes I imagine that I don’t exist anymore. Or maybe they are the ones that disappear? I feel a bit dizzy so I very loudly blow out the smoke and straighten up on my chair. Somewhere in the background all the street lamps turn on. Their orange light softens our edges and somehow it makes us look a little bit more two-dimensional. Exactly in this moment Ka starts to cough. All of us freeze. Fingers of his left hand dig into the wooden arm rest of the chair, while his right hand tightly covers his mouth. Te helps him to get up and together they start walking away from us. Every step they make is marked by one cough. I can’t stop myself anymore so I close my eyes and start to scream. My voice awakens wind and tears apart the clouds; it follows the birds that are heading south and pierces through the surface of the water only to crash at the very bottom of the river. Twins press me to the ground and whisper lies to my ear.

We sit back to back to each other just so we can’t see each other faces. Every breathe I take is Ka’s exhale, every breathe he takes is mine. He twists his arm to the back to touch my face. I light a cigarette and a moment later I can hear clicking of a lighter somewhere behind me – like a mirror reflection he has repeated my gesture. So we sit leaning at each others back and smoke in silence. I want to say something but at the moment I don’t know how to even think this, so I stay silent. Quietly and only for myself I start another sequence: “0. 1. 1. 2. 3. 5.8.13. 21. 34…”. “55. 89. 144…” with every word his lungs whistle. When he is at 233 he starts getting up and stands in front of me. He covers my ears with his hands and looks me in the eye for a very long time. We don’t blink. It might be few seconds or few hours. In his pupils there is a reflection of mine in which you can find a hidden image of his, in which there is mine, in which there is his… Our own private infinity.

Suddenly Ka straightens up and smiles in a very sad way. “I need to go”. I shake my head but he is already at the door. I follow him. When we are passing the living room Ka puts his head inside to say good-bye and then he adds: “Te, take care of her”. The other one immediately moves towards me like a motherfucking guardian angel. I hear the front door closing and on the peripheries of my sight I can see Te’s hand moving toward my face. “I am sorry” I think or say out loud and close my teeth on his thumb. He makes a hissing sound and takes a step back. That’s all I need – I am already at the exit. On the staircase I take few steps at the time and it’s more like a controlled fall when I get to the last landing. This is when my word starts to shake and tremble as if it was in fever. It feels as if it is spitting out on me strings of colourful air. When I am already lying on the floor it feels a little bit as if I am already gone. There is only rainbow and white noise. I start to repeat the alphabet, because if the alphabet is said and after every a there is b, and after every b there is c, then surely something must exist and this something is saying all these letters. Somewhere half-way through the thirty first round (between n and o) I come back to the world. Te is standing above me with his thumb in his mouth and twins are trying to have a look from behind his back. None of us says a thing but I already know what has happened. Out of a habit I quickly scan my body. My hands. There is only one of them. I mutter some swear words angrily and start to forget. I forget about the fall and I forget how I have bitten Te. I forget about the time I have spent on the kitchen floor with Ka. I forget about the evening by the river. Just in case I forget a little bit more – all the way to the morning…

Alla is lying on her belly and looks very calm asleep. I look at her for a moment and then, very quietly, get up. She says something through sleep and for a minute I fear that I have woken her up. But no, she is still asleep. In a hurry I put on my clothes and lose few precious minutes to find my left shoe. Then, very quietly I open the front door and get out to the staircase. When I am on the very bottom of it I meet one of the neighbours – he holds the door for me. I get out on the street and suddenly I am being drowned in the blinding sun-light.

Sun rays dance in the tree tops and when they reach the pavement they are completely distorted. I open mouth and allow the cold air touch my teeth. With a tongue I spread it all around and when it’s already mixed with my saliva – I swallow it. Ka sits on the bench and moves one of his foot to some melody that only he knows. I approach him and cast a shadow on the pages of the book that is lying on his legs. He looks up and smiles at me. “I look like shit, I know” I say. He reaches under the sit and suddenly there are two coffees in his hands. He passes one of them to me and then very quickly closes his book and puts away to the bag. “Let’s go and watch the ducks”.

I light another cigarette and blow circles out of the smoke into the air. I send them, as in the procession, towards the cloudless sky. Aquamarines and azures fall into our eyes and fill up our heads. My breath synchronises with Ka’s and now we are already breathing together. Wind starts to blow from the east. I could stay there, in this bright silence, in this over-oxidisation, much longer – but the moment passes when the whole body of Ka starts to shake from the never-ending coughing. I patiently wait for his breath to come back. His open hand, all coloured with blood, for a moment hangs between us – it looks like a blossoming poppy. One of us shrugs, the other lights a cigarette. We start a slow walk towards the town.

Prim` and Double Prim`` are arguing. It will pass in the moment – it always does. We stop few metres away and wait in silence. Twins suddenly go quiet and only look at each other angrily. A moment later they start laughing uncontrollably. Their laughter ascends and echoes between the buildings as if it was a muezzin prayer. Passer by turn their heads, some of them stop and wave at us, others take their phones away from their ears and close their eyes. Air is trembling. Ka places one of his hands on his chest, I shut my eyes and in my mind I draw a thick black line around myself. We are like two infidels in the sacred place. Profanum versus sacrum. Ka pulls my sleeve and starts walking towards the closest bar. After a while twins follow us.

Te is already inside. His whole body is coloured with the orange chemical light and it makes him look a little bit like a bronze statue. We sit down at the round table in the corner. Ka is just opposite to me, semi-transparent and barely visible in this dimmed light. Twins speak at the same time to him but he only gives them his absent smile and maybe this whole thing would look quite normal, if only he wouldn’t be holding so tight to the table.

I get up very quietly and go outside to have a smoke. My hands form into fists. “1. 4. 9. 16” every number stands for one heartbeat of my heart. Te appears in front of me and blocks the sun. For a moment we stare at each other without blinking. “One hundred…” I throw a punch at his face “Sixty…” this time my fist lands on his chest “Nine!” – I try again to get his face but he grabs my hand before that and closes his huge arms around me until I calm down. I don’t even know when I start to cry.

Ka looks at me above the table and I think he is talking about some book. I can’t really focus so I only nod and try to look smart. There is a delay in a way sound and picture are reaching me: and when they finally do – they are distorted, defected and incomplete. Suddenly Ka’s body starts to shake but it takes me a while to connect this picture with the coughing sound. Twins freeze and their eyes become even more round and child-like than usually. Te gets up and helps Ka to stand up. They go outside. Now the whole world is mute. I am afraid to move and only stare at the door. After a moment I take a big breath and start to scream. Somewhere behind me I can hear bottles breaking and glasses exploding. Prim` and Double Prim`` cover my mouth and my nose and wait for me to lose consciousness.

Ka lies next to me in bed. With his index finger he traces contour of my nose. None of us speaks. It’s very quiet. I wait for the words to form sentences in my head – before I say it out-loud. Without noticing it and in the background I start another string: “1-4-1-5-9-2—6-5-3-5-8-9-7-9-3-2…”. “3-8-4-6” Ka moves closer to me and I can feel his eye-lashes on my cheek. I close my eyes and imagine that it’s a butterfly. This moment lasts: it might be few minutes, it might be few hours. Suddenly a butterfly takes off. Ka starts getting up but I grab his hand. “Please, stay the night”. He shakes his head but at the same time he falls back on the pillows again. Neither of us is moving, just like the insects pinned to the board. We might be smiling at each other.

The hum of atoms falling apart fills the night. Everything around starts to shake and there are big flakes of multicoloured plaster falling down from the ceiling. Ka strokes my hair and I think he is coughing. Purples and blues are forcing themselves into my larynx and try to suffocate. For a moment it feels as if I was already gone. I can still hear this damn cough, though. And if this cough can be heard, there must be something that hears it. So maybe I am not gone? I listen to the cough and wait. Finally, a little bit reluctantly, word comes back. Ka is still next to me, with a faint smile on his face. There are bubbles of saliva in the colour of the rust on his lips. He doesn’t blink. I kiss the inside of his hand and start to forget…

eye of a tiger

you have a nosebleed again

I wipe the rim of your lips
with my finger

and look you

in the eye

- tiger is asleep

in the big black

hole

faint sign of a smile

shows

on your face

war

my friend

travels to the places

where bombs explode

sand that has the colour

of the sky at dawn

covers his hair

and I hope that's enough

to make him invisible

that it's enough

to make gun-men

miss him

he drinks tea

and shares bread

with people

that are going to die

tomorrow

apparently

tea has never

been so bitter.

never tasted better.

Fall

Sun rays devour vast meadows around us. We are far away from every city; in a place where even few steps seem like an endless distance; where minutes become an eternity. Violets and aquamarines dance on our faces - it is cold and our insides start to cover with all the shades of blue. None of us moves, we squint and become even more impermeable. We try to hide heads in our shoulders. 'Maybe we should go', says one of us and we both agree. Yet - immobility sets even stronger in our bodies and I can feel how my hair grows and pierces the ground, how my fingers claw to the grass to become roots, how my heart beat slows down. It's so quiet and so bright. Image of you, hidden behind my eyelashes, is blurred and out of focus. It's so easy to forget that you are still here. Planes that are cutting through the sky above us are mute and leave only white scratches behind. I want to become a sound, I want you to become a sound - even though it travels so much slower than the light. I imagine you start to laugh. It awakens earthquake beneath us. Leaves from my hair start falling down.

dirty secrets

we light up the cigarettes

and look up

stars float in the sea of ink

for a moment

maybe few hours

we can ignore

everything else

and it's OK that you

touch my fingers

with yours

you help me climb

the roof of the car

neither of us

is saying much

we don't need to

we never had to

at the night time

secrets don't look

dirty

how it is

in my ashtray there is plenty

of cigarettes butts and insulin vials

that's the reality

we can pretend it's different

that I have so much more to offer

that I am so much more interesting

(let's agree - for the sake of the argument)

I can pretend that I am interested

that I care

that I give a shit

(supply my little green insulin

I will pretend I am indifferent)

and then tell me

I am wrong

I am mistaken

if you wish

I can nod

I can agree

I can be duly

to all of that

'there is so much more in me

that I can offer'

and now

- like a good boy-

pass the orange one

...

there there

that's how

it is.

telltales

it's kind of a telltale

that I hold your hand in public

or hide my face in your arms

and maybe sometimes

I stay silent

for the whole morning

seeking refuge

in the shirt

that is way too big

still - I bite my lip

when you ask serious questions

and refuse to answer my phone

for many many days

you know very well how

I take my coffee

and what

you shouldn't talk about

it might be it.

present conditional

if it was snowing

your nosebleed

could keep us safe

if it was snowing

no-one would

give us directions

we could be lost

and not found

if it was snowing

all our sins

could remain hidden

and we could just

build a snowman

out of our past

to haunt other people

- not us

if it was snowing

we could pretend

the winter has come.

finally

I remember, remember how you were there

I remember when we used to

waste our time 

and laugh just to fill the silence

I used to pour water to all the cups

in the kitchen 

just to show you their different measures

you used to say my eyes are like stars

(but where did it leave the moral law?)

I remember your fingers

wrapped around my wrists

and how I've enjoyed

not being able to move

being anchored to the bed

being your possession

I remember listening to your voice

and nodding

not because I've agreed with you

but because

I've agreed with your voice

how my whole body
was agreeing with yours

I remember when I didn't want to remember

and I remember how I couldn't

I remember when I started

losing my memory

I remember

how I remember

all the atoms exchange in my body every seven years

I spread my arms

in the long soft grass

with a thumb I cover the Sun

it's no longer

I allow green leaves

to wrap around my neck

the finger-prints that were there once

are no longer

I breathe in and out

exchange all the oxygen and atoms

what was laying a moment ago in the grass

is no longer

air bubbles

between my bones and skin

there is everything that

keeps us apart

if you would take

a little needle

and blow some air in there

- it could remove it

- it could kill me

between my bones and skin

are all the words

we never say

it's almost like a religion

this silence of ours

go on

give me some air

Sweden

it feels a little bit

as if I had come back

from Sweden

and it's not that anything

important would have happened

over there

nothing that would be worth putting a full stop

or emphasizing it

nothing worth the exclamation mark

yet still

if I were in Sweden

for the past couple of days

if I would have cleaned my dirty hands

with the pale Swedish grass

if I would have cling my finger tips

to the walls of the buildings

if I would have fill my lungs

with this white and thin air

then now it would be exactly

like that

- as if I had come back from there

empty

thin

and silent

Purgatory

"Let's go to the church." That's what you say. Then you just shrug your shoulders and fill the space between us with question marks full of restlessness. Yes, let's go to the church. I nod and collect all of the words that got scattered across the room (I might need them later on). I lift myself from the chair while you - you are already at the door. Air between us shakes and trembles from the heat. Church can save us. Church with cold stone walls. Absolution from this day, redemption from our own hell. Let's go to the church.

Drops of sweat, dirt and profanum travel from my neck, through shoulders and somehow - on the way - disappear. Not all of it, I do not become a saint. This would be way too easy. I try to look at you without actually doing it. Your steps are longer than mine, your shadow so much bigger than the one I can cast. I know for a fact, that if I would ask you to let me hide in you (under you, next to you, with you) - you would agree. But I remain silent and just hide behind my sunglasses. I might only start walking a bit faster, not to stay behind, not to get lost.

There is a big stone bowl filled with water at the entrance. You gather some of it into your hands, blow at it to disinfect it and pour it into my mouth. Amen. Amen to all of these gods we do not believe in. I know I could smile, I know I could say 'thank you'. But the silence wrapped already its fat tail around my throat. So - no. Amen.

There are traces of other people’s sins all around us: they lay abandoned on the wooden benches, carelessly carved on the walls and floor, some reflect in the stained-glassed windows. I find a forgotten bible under my seat. "Open it", this is what you would say - if we weren't mute now.

I turn pages and really want to find a passage that will mean something, that will become a full stop to this day. A passage, a sentence, a word - that will allow us to break out from this ellipsis.

This is when you put your hand on mine and say: "Credo in spiritum sanctum". I nod and finally find my voice. Yes, jesus-joseph-and-mary, let's get some drinks.

Amen.

if I stay

if I stay

will you not talk to me

for the first ten minutes

after we wake up

?

and will you

stay calm

when my face goes absent

and everything about me

gets so distant

?

if I stay

can we smoke at least

one cigarette

before we talk

about last night

?

if I stay

?...

(I close the door

quietly

- not to wake you up)

don't stop me

it’s like

running on the water

barely touching

the surface

don’t stop me

or I will drown

paradise lost

in my head

your face is blurred

as always

it’s not that

I don’t want

to remember

I do –

- but can’t

I put cucumber

on my eyelids

trying to preserve

the images of the day

I leave post it notes

on the lamp posts

when I walk home

I sing to myself

our conversations

and the lack of them

your name is the one

I write on the back

of the motel bible

together with Jesus

you stand for my sins

and oh Christ...
at the dawn

I still can’t recall

your faces

*** (let's just forget ourselves)

let’s just forget ourselves

you - me

and me – you

because there are

no words

to describe us

together

let’s forget ourselves

and get drunk

on our own

you

and I

at the Korsakoff’s place

where every empty bottle

stands for every empty promise

and every smoked cigarette

is an anaesthetic

let’s just forget our

past selves

and what we could have become

…

forgetting to forget

we start reading

thesaurus.

darling -

- pass me the light...

morning prayers

I wake up

and for a moment

don’t remember

how to breathe

if prayers

are nothing more

than talking to yourself

I start an argument

myself versus myself

it’s like a spark

it’s uncontrolled

it’s like fire

…

I pray

still breathless

preventing the explosion

…

good morning

*** (you wake me up)

you wake me up

in the middle of the night

and walk to the roof

we’ve never managed

to see the sunrise

but tonight

we are watching stars

and Mars

I let myself

get lost in time

and it’s easy to imagine

that this is our

last night on Earth

...

we go back to bed

just before the dawn

this way it’s easier

to pretend

that day

has never arrived

love songs

I listen to love songs

and try to remember

- anything

how easy

how hard

how much

…

it’s difficult to say

what exactly is missing

what has been taken away

bit by bit

by sharp teeth

by clawed fingers

drowned in saliva

sweated out in bed

…

I listen to love songs

and don’t remember

- anything

it’s easy

not hard at all

and not very much serious

art of dying

your face is as white

as the snow outside

all the cigarettes

you’ve smoked

tint your eyelids

with the shades of blue

I cover your ears

and allow your pulse

to fill your head

with drumming

-it’s a rehearsal

but the time hasn’t come

not yet

for now

I can still hear you

breathing

seasons

I wish I could say

that we used to be

more honest

and simple

and that we have broken

not so long ago

that it’s quite

a new thing

maybe even temporary

who knows?

not me

I could lie

it probably will

go away

when the seasons change

…

I wish you could say

that you remember

when I was so

different

not like this

that it’s a shame

I’ve turned out

to be this way

when I could have been

so much better

…

you stroke my hair

and we talk about

something else

or go outside

to watch stars

seasons change

but that’s

pretty much

it

gospel

tell me where it hurts

here?

I push my finger

against your forehead

you squint

and without any sound

move your lips

I spit on my hand

to baptize you

and pass

the gift of speaking in tongues

now

in so many new ways

you can

tell beautiful lies

tell me where it hurts

you push your finger

against my forehead

and smile

in an ugly way

I nod

and stay silent

brand new, unopened and sealed

once opened

consume within

three days

…

who knew?

you are past your

use by date

and at the age of

twenty-something

you are already

finished

processed

partially eaten

crashed with molars

and wet from saliva

with missing parts

and ripped packaging

you have

expired

you have a box

under your bed

with wrapping paper

and ribbons

sometimes

when no-one sees

you pretend

you are still

new

and unused

2802

you look through your fingers

into the sun

and frown

when shadows move

on your face

and add new details to it

for a brief moment

it seems that you are smiling

February reflects its paleness

on your cheeks

and cold air

makes your breath shallow

with cold fingers

you touch my hand

and I try very hard

not to shiver

there are no more mirrors

at home

I read you ‘The Snow Queen’

before we fall asleep

blind game

I wear bandages on my eyes

and hide behind them

I can’t see

so I listen

and like a wild animal

sometimes allow myself to growl

I wear bandages on my eyes

and they hide you

from me

you try not to make any sound

but I still can hunt you down

- we stand only step apart

and we don’t even breathe

your pulse drums

in my temple

and I am sure

you can smell my fear

if you could see my eyes

I would drown you in them

…

unwrap the blindfold.

what are you singing about?

I am sinking

I am drowning

when air dense as water

floods my lungs

and sets my eyes on fire

I am sinking

I am drowning

under the duvet

under all the blankets

with the pillow on my face

I am sinking

I am drowning

on the kitchen floor

between plates and glasses

under this chemical light

I am sinking

I am drowning

I am drowned.

*** (I don't even swear now)

I don’t even swear now

when I wake up

there is a deep silence

within me

without any words

maybe with few exclamations

and an ellipsis

with this silence

I can knock off birds from the sky

and summon the snow

under the shower

I allow hum of the water

to fill me up with the sound

…

fuck.

advice

is it OK to ask for help

it's not

it's not

it's not

pretend.

seagulls #2

it’s quiet

seagulls glide in this silence

on this grey sky

only from time to time
they scream

and in this scream

they sound more like humans

because I don’t know

how to reply

I only wave to them

and go home.

I leave bread

on the bench

extensa

every day

there is more and more

space in my bed

“it’s the Universe expanding”

you say

and reach out to me

but I am too far away

it’s sometimes weeks

before I come across

any trace of you

on the bathroom mirror

we leave messages for each other

you say that you miss me

so I’ve left

a kiss on the glass

“it’s the Universe expanding”

I say quietly

and the edges of the bed

are even further apart

there is nothing in newspapers about the bombs

I look at the sky

and wait for the bombs to fall

somewhere in the east

a cloud appears

I imagine

that its filled with the hum

of propellers

when the noise becomes

unbearable

I allow myself to smile

you don’t suspect anything

and turn another page

of the newspaper

[he]story

you tell me the stories

when it’s already dark

when I already can’t see

your face

when the movements of your hands

are just a sound

you braid together lies and truth

I listen and don’t interrupt

my silence

is yet another lie

you will tell a story about

sleep

I look at you when you’re asleep

with outstretched arms

and anxious breathe

sometimes you speak

but in foreign language

your secrets are still safe

you wear dresses

only in bed

sometimes I like to think

that the day will come

when you will wear one

for a walk with me

last night I saw you crying

with your eyes shut tight

with fists next to your face

in the morning

after you touched the wet pillow

and starred at me

and in that moment

looked even more like a child

I said

'you drooled'

we both knew

that’s a lie

as a punishment 

you’ve made me get up

and put the kettle on