Like An October Poem by Maria Mitea

i feel you

in the pores

the air sneaks in -

like a skilled thief
enters and exits

trying-to-stop-a-pirouette-of-smoke

(i admire the wisdom of smoke)

***
dizzy

we can't find the heels

without noise

falls on its hind legs (like a horse) -

from right to left
we do our best,
we try -
on the tips, and again anew

first breath, second, third...

last -

the sound of a trumpet falls in sourdine

lips-freeze-in-words -

***
we breathe in a roundabout

the sleeping thought wakes up in the corner of the eyes -
at the center
a statue is playing the statue game
in a flight -

we live in a bird that receives first aid breath -

is not in a hurry to live, nor to die,

it is much more pleasant to breathe beak to beak -

greedy pores
are waiting for an open lip
of the lion mouth flower

***
under the window, the spry rain cleans

is washing the leaves -

crumbs fall into the wet grass

opened pores

are breathing

the fresh morning air -

(déjà vu)

it smells like october