virtuoso

neither in the deepest valley nor on the tallest mountain
nowhere
I have never lived I have never loved what even myself did not know
the one who doesn’t pine for love doesn’t know when the moon rises
just keep silent delicate beast
go on singing though
you have never listened nor ever imagined the March marvel soloist
how he fills your windows with burning honey flames
it’s the punishment of love the punishment of the sky
belonging to stars
only theirs
the bird with folded wings until the right time comes
no fancy plumes holding on with gray claws
it stands still
it is the time when you fear to breathe to protect the song
as if a starry fragile dandelion globe
the second of heaven up in the tree
when it hurts
the master of souls and silences
in holy communion with itself
I can no longer listen to because god loves me too much
because the walls of my house bear the echo of the trill
of a nightingale
I am stained
at daybreak I will be captured by the guards who killed it

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

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