Through your eyes, through your mouth (poem by Florin Caragiu, English translation: Corina Gina Papouis)

God looks at me through your eyes, through your mouth he tells me
to start the day with a darting game:
within our past there are concentric circles.
the nights and the days spread in layers, are rubbing our irritated skin
of surrenders against the roller of colours.
under water is silence and the oxygen ties us to life,
the way love holds us while we’re climbing loneliness
and we break capillaries with a doubting heart in the rally
towards the beach where shoals of fish fall asleep.
you want to open car doors, to create a tornado
to check out the sit belt choosing the first thing
able to expel your blood towards a cloth primed with heated oil

we need a crumb of faith to divide the circle into four,
without the shivering fear of never knowing the core,
where we believe it pulsates according to weather predictions.
people give you up so easily,
to the point of admiring them for the courage of getting ahead of you,
because you know you cannot move forwards from here
not crawling, nor dragged by the light over well defended borders.

it is, with all being said, a sure place,
because the caressing is wiping the wronged letters on the body
and the wood for the fire heals through severing.



(poem published in the volume "Sentic", Vinea Publishing House, Bucharest, 2009, p. 17. English translation: Corina Gina Papouis)