Rupestrian Poem by Cristina M. Moldoveanu

my happiness ends here / on a Sunday's evening
after the cross atop the church's steeple becomes cooler
after this bright red sunset
there will be no more painless/ careless/ fearless moments
the asphalt is empty and dull for my soles / its echoes are lost
no better things to do than strolling these streets/ almost losing ground

than staring at people right into the whole / the full of them
without any thought on my mind

only the shadow of my elbow is touched by other shadows
en passant
silhouette after silhouette
Modigliani's women / Brâncuşi's magic birds
la dolce morte della luce
everything flows into thoughts / thoughts into other thoughts/
even Charon's boat disappears
and right now my lips paralyzed to prevent me from proving the truth