SWEETS FOR REPTILES Poem by Dmytro Lazutkin

you're secretly learning a dead language
could be for naught
but then again

your eyes are blinded by snow

my dwelling is made of red clay

they say that at Christmas-time
you can walk on water
but that salvation isn't guaranteed

you're secretly learning a dead language
it's coming along slowly
a few sound clusters stir
ready to be exhaled

you understand everything
but you're tired
there's no rhyme in our glances
we part
as always —

don't forget to turn off the light
water the plants

you old viper