I took the cup
to drink from it
but the blood slipped
from my lips
...
22 December 2015 1: 15 a.m.
Listening to silence, sipping coffee, peeling persimmons
and you, a stranger to the dance and the music, in my mind,
...
a glimpse of your existence
that’s what is important now
even if tomorrow you are gone
and return at my door
...
Every night
a whisper comes
and my heart beats
fast
...
you looked like a character
that someone created
out of disdain
you ate sardines
...
cars
they are most inappropriate
to bring in the rain
especially in a dirt road
...
to be one with you
at this moment
where dark silhouettes
bring flickering lights
...
maybe i met you in the rain
as raindrops on my open lips
and as heavy rain
forcing open
...
Oh, everlasting travelling moon
where will you go?
will you bring a message
of my love
...
i can believe in a dream
like patriots were lulled into believing
who lulled others who knew nothing
but to fill their half-empty stomachs
...
my heart overflows
with the sadness of sparrows
shot in mid-flight
by lovers
...
i can love you
even if you are a prisoner
of your own complications
and i am a prisoner
...
i miss you most
in the mornings
when my body wiggles
out of the soft cotton sheets
...
Blood Moon Rising
I took the cup
to drink from it
but the blood slipped
from my lips
and became a river
I curdled the blood
to make sausages
for some greedy mouths
and their mouths slurped
into the Red Sea
I shaped the blood
into balloons
and hanged them in the air
for children to reach
but their hands floated
with the dancing string
Hidden by hides on a strip,
the Tabernacle sleeps
as blood splatters once again
on the face of the moon
rising.