I do not talk
I am just saying words
Whilst keeping my eyes on the passage in front of us
So you can hear and stop.

Let me hold the pistol this time, I laugh,
You, confess how beautiful the town is in the dark,
Be still and silent and dance around me.

Although I am not born yet
I can listen to your breath underground
Where the soil, moving up and down with a big sigh,
Brings you up in the world.

I am closer and closer,
My neck, stretched, to have a proper look at you
Asleep on the grass.
‘We are two quiet songs’ I think,
One, vertical, blue,
The other, small white seed.

And just as my stare wakes you up I know I will
Remember this precise moment of my existence and
When, at last, I will hand over the keys,
My head will turn to catch the final glimpse of your flesh.

But just for now, this night opened two separate roads ahead.
The one for you, learning to walk,
Another for me, barely moving.

Drawing: Maria Butunoi