Ivona Sophia Poems

enclosed in an orange bottle with a childproof lid,
tiny pills with numbers on both sides.
there wasn't enough time to name them.
life will do them justice. was it worth it or not?
...

she’s glancing at the reflection
in the mirror, at the same place
(from the beginning of time and paint) ,
holding her images even when she’s not
...

I have my wish list, hidden under the pillow,
reread in every deep sleep, memorized by day.
It’s much more than an old piece of paper
with crossed out words, silently vanishing.
...

with the North Star
piercing my navel
I am traveling
within the universe of the bed
...

we don’t count days anymore. it is very natural
to be together, the same as getting wrinkles
or gray hair. spring sunlight sharpens
the edges of our faces, making us more aware of time.
...

a thunderstorm awakens ghosts
sleeping in the darkening house,
a wind releasing windows from their frames,
untying shadows. walls are shivering under
...

being able to hold your hand. watching the sky
or news and never getting disappointed. ordering Chinese
food with one extra rice and celebrating another
ordinary day in October. being certain. writing you
...

I will wear a coat too long and a red scarf
on a warm or windy day. I will have time
to kill or time to think. I will walk alone
with hands in pockets, careless stomping
...

forget. pack a bag. now it is much easier
to travel. distance shrinks. baggage grows wheels.

I’m not sure, but I get an impression
...

you brought me fresh cut flowers
this morning. the last of this autumn,
before the first frost. I wish I could
preserve their scent for winter evenings.
...