Poezja

Facing an imminent 
onslaught of apparitions, I 
wanted an excuse, 
to write a poem. 
 
Staying raw, 
in this dark, can I see your particle 
face? Drop by drop you 
moved away. Between – 
 
you and me was a blue 
lake. Shall I undo your 
percussive existence, brutalizing 
the wings, the peaks? 
 
An Aryan pride? Why 
not we walk back home 
hand in hand, under the black 
sky and a summer moon.