• Prose

    You look beautifully lost

    You look beautifully lost, with headphones in your ears and hands in your pockets, so nothing disturbs you. Restless hair, eyes closed as you look at the world, the one in you, the one forbidden to the one outside. Without a smartphone that certainly won’t make you smarter, the mute off on the phone, you don’t want any distractions. You walk past me as I sit on the sidewalk. I’m smiling, but you don’t notice it, you’re lost, beautifully lost. While looking at you, I’m imagining what you might be thinking at that moment. What’s the problem? What bothers you? Maybe you’re thinking about someone that hurt you, or perhaps…

  • Poetry

    Split up before and after our impulses

    In desperation, we lie, we deceive sensibilities, we’re losing fairly, bluffing only with the existence in the darkness that surrounds us, as if it swallows us with the eyes with a scalpel which hangs on the lower eyelids. The space between us could be one room, one continent, which yawns, split up before and after our impulses to fill the straits with the glass mosaic, where infinity would be dissolved, and nothing below us or above us exist, apart from the feeling of falling, without end, in a void without stars that would illuminate the spider web in which you and I hold on for a sigh or two. It’s…

  • Poetry

    I will become a drop in your eye

    I will become a drop in your eye, which will slip from time to time down your face, but it won’t fall. You will wipe me, you’ll get me off, with the conviction that it’s over. But it’s just beginning… I’ll be a reflection of your look in the mirror when you’re looking for me. I’ll be a thorn in your eye, but not as a threat -but as a memory. I will live inside your eye, like a bitter tear. I will slip from time to time and every time you wipe me before I fall, I will know I’m still hurting you. Every time you wipe furiously memories-…

  • Poetry

    What’s (not) possible

    Your love, too, has become foreign language for me that I like to listen to, but I don’t understand it. Of your favorite music, which was at dusty closet, I remember how you could barely find those records, a replacement for the peace you sought. I barely found you crossing dusty roads and encountering unexpected turns. Previously, fights had brought us together. They often helped us to understand each other, to show the hidden sides of fear and mystery. Now, fights bring only silence -unbearable and endless. By pointing to multiple sides of us, what we were and what we’re not now. Just like in the old days, but we…

  • Poetry

    You’ll have bitterness left on your tongue whenever you mention me

    I’m swallowing dumplings, full of unspoken words, which persistently roast my throat while they’re slipping, waiting for you to look at me as prey. The urge in me and the stomach-turning tells me to vomit all the secrets on the table before you, for you to eat all the rest of me. You will love everything I can’t tell you, You will laugh at my obsolete thoughts in which only you are always constant news. You will fall in love with my taste, you will fall in love with yourself. You will welcome the way my emotions are crunching when you sink your teeth that are starting to crack because…

  • Poetry

    Have you come for work or pleasure?

    Have you come for work or pleasure? It’s always the first for you, your job to swallow the men and spit them out. Satisfaction comes after, it’s in you, it feeds you and boosts your ego. And you wouldn’t choose any other way. I trembled to knock on your door, random kisses, intentional laughs and the random hotel sex that followed, how you intentionally pulled me into the hotel bar and said “Are you for whiskey?” You know I don’t refuse whiskey, and you even less, wearing mesh stockings. Now I paint your hands on bullets, I polish the trigger. (I’m not the one you love, am I?) I collected…

  • Poetry

    She was burning

    She was burning, like tobacco in the contemporary art gallery, wrapped in the paper between the fingers of a serious lady who never goes anywhere without her silk gloves. Like a dragonfly tearing its wings, screaming under a wolf-shaped totem. Her pulse was creating an earthquake while propped against the cold door of the antique souvenir shops. She was burning like the rain didn’t know about another clever opponent except for the fire. She was burning like she was allergic to moonlight. A million strokes of devastated gods; she fell like a deer flirting with fire, only to realize its mistake later. Her torso was like a pyre, waiting to…

  • Poetry

    I’m just a Moment

    I’m just a Moment, the moment that triggers your nerves, starting from the back of the spine. Moving upwards; inch by inch; The Moment that kisses your neck. I’m just a Moment in time, traces of stardust around me, they help me heal all your wounds, your skin and the scars on it; the edges of my lips know what they’re doing. I’m just a Moment, the elixir of eternity, it’s on the tip of my tongue, my fingers tightly hold your hair, inch by inch; The Moment is uncertain. I’m just a Moment in time, a moment that makes your heart beating faster, with touches, I look for ancient…