you open me up from within like a freshly-sewn wound
after a game with colored broken glass
I cannot fight it, I just lay myself down on the ground
to listen to the violin sliding over God’s footsteps
the world lies deserted between us like a disinflated ball,
or like a sharp two-edged sword that rejoices
when our cheekbones touch
my name remained on the finger
with which you write in the sand
forgiveness
(poem published in the volume "catacombe. aici totul e viu" ("catacombs. everything is alive here"), Vinea Publishing House, Bucharest, 2008, p. 9. English translation: Simona Sumanaru)
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