love me, you tell me,
love me until it hurts,
until your thoughts coagulate
and you’ll think, calling me,
that you grew another voice in your palms,
with which you could tame even death.
i look at you without saying a word.
outside it’s raining – a summer rain
smelling like mint and like dust returned to the bowels of the earth –
and you don’t see, hidden under my palms,
the wounds of the bed’s wrought iron.
love me, you tell me –
i let the lightning crawl its wake
in my turbid eyes,
and i love you like the thorn with which i carve my path towards heaven
through words of silex
© 2015 Liliana Negoi
originally written in Romanian