translated by Sakis Kyratzis

No matter if colours are missing now
He's lying face down on me dead methinks
His lips at war like no other
They refuse to rest upon each other
Are they afraid their meeting might shatter the self
that surrounds them?
His two lips are resting upon me however
Around us the windless weather is incapable of even lifting a feather
The sky above us immovable
We often glimpse through fortuitous corridors at the outside sea
It exists yes with fortress waves
But we are a compound
Gaping over the anthill
Relentless stares in millions march and engulf us
The anthill is mercilessly inhabited
It belongs to us like everything on the island it is ours
Hence if we so wish we can be as blind as the sea
In this universe we have defined we are its eyesight

   7: Poetry for video games, Nefeli Publications, Athens 2011