Let’s say — purslane

“- What to cook today?
your question cut off our conversation
and I wiped off the tears that you didn’t see.

Then you (or me — what’s  the difference?)
will leave, flying away with just one wing,
so that I don’t kiss you for every right thing you say,
so that in me (or you)
your (or my) presence doesn’t exceed the 85%.

And then again I will take my spoon
and mix your fairytale away (how do you bear me?)

We turned our child into a dream from a plan,
and wrote it down in our books —
just to remember, nothing more.

We were so honest to each other,
that I — myself couldn’t be to me.
Your blasphemy sounds like a
blessing to me now.

I covered your head with red,
so that your innocence of Magdalena
wouldn’t flow under others’ feet,
so that others wouldn’t smell your curls,
so that when you flow out of me
(as I was flowing out of you)
you are whole again.

And without you-
I’ll be just a colorless and empty jar
or the smallest from herbs,
let’s say — purslane…

Translated by Mariam Sargsyan

Թողնել պատասխան

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