I, with poetry

You didn't know,
but
I, with poetry,
was feeling the fringes of eternity
even cracking open the door a bit
from beyond
even getting my fingers caught in it
when, unexpectedly,
it slammed shut due to the draft

Sometimes, I didn't want to
I didn't want to know
and then she,
poetry,
would dress in a veil gown
and slowly, where I couldn't feel her,
she would approach
undulating
and luring me
and I, like a fool,
would go
but still didn't want to
didn't want to see
and kept my eyes tightly, tightly
closed

And then
she would take me by the hand,
like a blind person,
and we would walk together
on extremely sharp dawns

Laughing, while
the light
coiling around our ankles
would penetrate us, from bottom to top,
until we saw
with our eyes tightly, tightly
closed

Anca Stanciu