Miroslava Odalovic Poems

Ce n'est pas important
On dit, mon Dieu
Parfois, je pense, mais
Je veux dire avec une question
...

In my book of zoology
The wolves are as innocent as lambs
The lambs as cunning as foxes
The monkeys always trick on humans
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Eyes craving sight
Ears craving sounds
Voice craving words
Hands craving a touch
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The living and the dead
They want answers beyond the measures of their time
And times easily crash into each other's spaces
All knowledge is there waiting to be discovered revealed
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it's only this nothing i've been blissfully given
it's only this nothing but in truth everything inside
it's only this nothing of knowledge this highly abstracted
it's only this inability to know when everyone else
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come to your one
come to your three
to your a tetrax truth
square root amidst
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the first dropp will touch your lips
the first break of dawn will touch your brow
the first open arms will call you into an embrace
the first open eyelids will open up my windows
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And it hurt to see the colours deflowered
Leaking down the walls to the ground
To the body of earth devoured
I looked at my hand I stretched it out
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Perhaps by drawing its lines with a sunbeam
Perhaps by colouring it with a golden ray
Placing it among the edges of dawn
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The flower there is for me
To water its bud
And give it its bloom
The flower there is for me
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