translated by  Yannis Goumas

comes a day when everything disappears.
mantilla over the eyes, wrapped in light,
and wearing a nightdress i balance acrobatically on the railing.
i’m no longer afraid of heights, not afraid of empty space,
vertigo gravitates towards the sky
and vies with the clouds.

the Meteorologist falls like rain.

(we drink
rain, hug ourselves, the bodies celestial
and music a rainbow, and the buttons unbuttoned
in the open sea)

it must be the water; it disturbs my sleep.
salty, very salty; blood for the sheets.
looking high and low, you won’t find him.
not here, little girl, not with him

my nerves are a sonorous dome.
shaking body, save me.
O sea, save me.

i’m swimming on the shore of our utopia.
a taut line on the map separates us.
the temple between us, between us
everything in smithereens, a western wall of tears.

never back to the flames.
(civilization)

should you ever wish to get to know us, remember our kippah
and if you want to learn about your illness, look, we are dressed
with mother’s wedding gown brandishing the railing, male and female
love, barking love, we only love - had we spread.

    Black Moralina, Kedros editions, Athens, 2010