fight

Duel

I do not happen to know
the purpose of our war
but I’m working hard to
remember the words you
scribbled on the piece of paper
which set fire to the entire land.

Then I could not catch
the imagined rain on the glass roof
nor the light of the earth
so
the battle just happened.

Out of the blue, both of us
ready, awake,
on the horse’s back,
measured with precision
the distance between
the polished guns.

The bullets hit my left arm,
my knee,
hit open my skull;
the flesh exploded in thousands of pieces,
covered the yellow sky
with hair and skin.

At the end,
the music kept playing again,
you followed the clear road,
I followed you:
nothing more than a perfect, unfinished poem.

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Holding Hands

Come with me I know precisely
Which direction to go I said laughing
Face to face with the unspoken word.
Never afraid to fight you,
Never stopped building the new language
Only for us.

I put on my best dress
I killed everyone around
Just for a moment of solitude with you.

Come, I said, but do not look at me,
Like I at you.
The new vocabulary can now describe with easiness
The true detail of this abandoned land
On which we slowly walk through the mud
Holding hands.

And for a while there was an echo.

The word, however, did not reply
The word kept still
And winked at me before
It jumped off the bridge.