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