X and O

at first we begin to acknowledge our miniature world
with fixed axis and freedom degrees
noble or poor
like a ship with white sails locked in a transparent bottle
like the hope in the box of the first woman
becoming woman through man

then we strike through with X signs all that annoys us
we strike through with O all that’s humane
the soft cheeks of the lying-in woman with her ripe breast
the cheeks of the old man crying
the open nipple and the eye corner
the corner of the baby’s mouth and the dry stump
from the mad mad forest
jolting branch after branch towards sky

because roots can grow only on the sky
here at us they bake red peppers and sometimes chestnuts
children knock their fists together
housewives dust off the tablecloth
the time of grape juice is over and we still wait

on a bench without back
a butterfly tips the scale towards east
as if something else could have been

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Categories: My poems in 2016 | Tags: | Leave a comment

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