Ventsislav Arnaoudov „The Vow“

by Владимир Сабоурин

 

she wrenched the roots,
the fruits of breath
she squeezed the air from the white
then cut the poison from the black
then mingled them and
then a sigh … that is right

She hoed the fields of arid life
She brimmed the rivers of the sight
she mastered the whales of dreams
she found grains, and then a sigh …
that is right

she opened furrows of her skin
she nurtured tenderly the buds
until the body bloomed divine
and then a sigh … that is right

she gives her veins for life to creep
she gives her words for him to sleep
she gives her palms for him to breathe
the sigh of deep, the sigh of deep.

 

 

 

 

 

 

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