Πέμπτο γράμμα

Να ντύνονται οι νύχτες τη μορφή σου, κι εσύ να μην το ξέρεις. Ν’ απλώνει ο ουρανός το σχήμα σου να πάρει, και να μη φτάνει. Κι εγώ πώς να στο πω. Όλο σκοτάδια να υφαίνω, ρούχο να πλέξω το κορμί σου, κι όλο γυμνό το βράδυ να με βρίσκει. Δεν το ‘ξερες; Εδώ βαφτίζει … Continue reading Πέμπτο γράμμα

flight

the days aren’t days aren’t todays wrought smiles opening up like easter intestines under the sun and the sun isn’t a sun isn’t your son isn’t the sum of light a planetary body frantic revolving or an aviary folding inside all our words that flew- the eyes aren’t eyes aren’t I’s aren’t you and I … Continue reading flight

the Hero

The hero makes a ‘thrilling escape from death’ and the monster is slain. — Christopher Booker, The Seven Basic Plots Fast-blood red-sharp morning explodes in my ears. Benched heat. Or is it that monster your love. Tasting my teeth, there’s a flavour of sun blocked apartments & sorrow balconies, and the line you handed me last night … Continue reading the Hero

Lament

Over time, a lover of the night hours I became. A tree that grew in a room. The Saints of Wear visited and solitude stroke like fever. Torchbearer of fear but of desire too, the moon circled, covered, dressed the stained world. The blast furnace city ignited. My blood ignited too. Then came you, sent by the … Continue reading Lament