Ljubavi,
I lie here, where no one
knows me, with no tie
to earth but your touch,
neither this bed, this window,
nor this room closing around me
feel real, only the pure
grey sky over Zagreb
is filled with a trembling light,
rain is gone, reason is gone.
Surely all the dark is done.
Almost ten years have passed
since we lost our way and tangled
our fates in a single knot.
Yet the light is no longer
a knife between my ribs,
it resembles childhood, when
the air divided into little
crystals of sugar, flashing
like diurnal stars, maybe
it’s the beginning of madness
— conquest or defeat
melt in the silver wet,
it’s just life and no escape.

Passion,
surely. That thing that never
lies and destroys the I.
Savages it. Thus saves it.
Passion in the scarlet sense
of the word, called me here.
The plane, the bed,
leave the same perfect shiver
— a danger to be sane.
I wait here, suspended,
adjourned, unable to eat
or sleep, comforted
by a small carton of milk,
only to be with you.
Fear has gone too.
Prayers are useless.
I no longer ask to be saved
from my innermost nightmare.
I no longer ask to never see that day,
hope that you won’t use that knife.
Someone did it for you
while you turned your back.
The child’s eyes opened
wide in the dark —
innocent.
The night felt so cold
suddenly in this street
and shiny like a blade.
Suspended, yes,
adjourned, but still yours.
That, the knife
couldn’t remove.

Ljubavi,
time is weightless,
it asked me to be so
unpossessive, and at
the next cigarette
forever dispossessed.
And time is like pain,
it melts under your weight.
All wars fail. I won’t say
blood dries up, fights
are over, we don’t need
these ruby-rose tales.
Yet blood finds me
in your arms again,
unsolved like a mystery,
still in ecstasy.
What is left after this ?
Your hands invented
a brighter flame of myself,
heavens are burning
in my veins —
what can death send me
that you have not ?
Look, the green pool
of your eye is identical to mine,
grief cannot remove it,
grief substitutes nothing
in its place. I exist, right there,
in this tiny mirror,
in eternal suspension
within you.
The song still plays
while you kiss me,
while you leave me,
it’s called  —
Tears dry on their own.

 

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