Landscape

And yet another midnight storm
Washes away the cold poetry
Born at the top floor.
I balance my whole weight
On long words,
Frozen stones on my tongue.

The fortress is shut
The town stops breathing
I count the mistakes god has done with me,
Just to pass the time.

The violent rain unsettles
The angel hidden inside my very bone.
Here, upstairs, both of us in the same body
Awake and hungry
Listen.

My milk teeth, lost on the floor
In a puddle of blood,
Grow wings.

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Photo: Maria Butunoi

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Good Teeth

I was deeply asleep
In my father’s egg
My sharp knife on my chest
My fingers on the shiny blade
My good teeth followed my legs when
I was finally released in this world
The unborn died to let me breathe
And this is how
I survived the big storm
With white blood on my hands.