The Secret Life Of Stone
Sometimes I hear
Like blood at your veins stops,
Like sensual light in your picturesque eyes fades away
And the familiar colours of life,
Attenuating to the total transparency,
With relief, leave your motionless body;
And you simply and majestically repose like a fraction of weighty granite,
Unknown carvers cut all unnecessary off from and left just you.
At those moments I think:
Here it is — a secret life of stone.
And then I say to myself:
My granite, my fossil coal,
Maybe, the part that was cut from you off, is it me?
Otherwise, why do I ...