MONUMENT OF AIR Poem by Răzvan Ţupa

Out of all the things they do not tell and maybe / even those which never happen are structures uttering real cities / Clear delights Springing suddenly from awaiting years / of whispers you had no chance to understand but coming out just when you pay no attention: Columns of breathing moods clear passions / you could coldly pass over but each Question is to be found right inside your body Covering everything from the beginning/ until somewhere in remote times even if you couldn't yet recall: From the beginning to the end / of history everything truly believes in one singular body and its parts some imaginary, others Caught in the middle of every movement / and even pushed to periphery amidst the intensity of the day, intimacies - some kind of nails, growing like hair only to protect you / from your noise from the heat of your each organ you use to light the peaceful flame of fascination Things that are just words / they only are alive when uttered you are happy, otherwise they stay forever / rustling silence and touching whenever all these / are uttered somewhere still alive there is again the most beautiful person and for so many times, like the poem, like / the city, that person is you / the complete breathing