allow me to not be able,
to not WANT to sleep tonight,
for fear that dreams might cling too tightly to my eyelids
and wouldn’t allow the photons dripping through the moon’s veins
to lecherously caress my retina
while sand flows, washing my feet
of summer’s mild pains.

porous thoughts about a Magdalene crucified on a violin’s bridge
decant slowly in the hourglass –
the dream’s rye body
and again
becomes a song
lost among columns of darkness
incessantly searched for
and never found.

the moon embroiders minuets there, far away,
round and white like the ghost of a peach,
mirroring frigidly the sun’s caresses –
and i hide
and hide
among vines of silence braided like the infinity’s idle eight
around the memories.


© Liliana Negoi


originally written in Romanian



One Response to “solstice”
  1. poetic images that weave through the natural senses ~ and the surreal heart

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