In the field of bloody noons

So red is the sunlight beyond the shut eyelids,

So raw and cruel and dripping drops of need

Constricting dreams sliding slowly round and round



Tango with sunlight

Forced red and cellos teasing in the background


Sssoooo sssswifffft…


Piano keys marking my skin with rhythm and

Joy and dementia

And suddenly it’s all a joke,

All a lost cause,

All a huge nothing spiced with the teachings of life

And I just wanna plug myself out of

The dream the

Dream the tender drama

Of Maya, my Ahhh!

Going round and round

And learning the geometry of fatality,

Of unexhausted resources of language,

Of the tongue

Of any tongue –

Babel reorganized on my taste buds so that

I can properly spice your name with the harmonics of

Each void lost and each death gained

Each afternoon so uselessly wasted along the line where the eyelids meet,

Right there,

Where sunlight can strive to find a way IN

And you squeeze your lids,

Witnessing with pleasure the orgasm of light sneaking within your eye

Through Such a






Too much red

Too liquid and too loud

And too much lacking the math of summer.

The math of loss and of weeds dried by the sunlight.

The random alpha of the “so what”.

Did I ever tell you I hate math because I love it?

All in one.

And me elsewhere.


© Liliana Negoi

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