Natalie Montanaro, a licensed city tour guide and former research assistant from the College of Charleston, South Carolina, volunteered for the U.S. Peace Corps and moved to Romania in May 2009. I
CD: Who is Natalie Schor? Tell us something about yourself.
NS: I am an ordinary person. After having graduated high school and completing military service, I attended the University of Tel
The strips of soul snatched from loneliness
Are waiting for our first dew.
From the agitated rustling of the quick sands
There arise questions anchored by smoldered lips
Vaguely moistened by
I kept running among the hot sands.
Lonely, a shell thrown on the beach.
Tempests, whirling the depth of the water.
The kiss of waves on concentric covers.
Held in a palm, examined for
The undoing of the hair in the sliding shiver of the waterfall,
Perfume of yet unkissed poppies by scatter-brained butterflies,
Touches of waters, timid kiss of a teen-ager,
The joy of unspoken
Shut your tired eyelid and dream
The shining silhouette of your worshiped woman
Pined away in the love dance.
The gentle curves...projections of your imagination...
The mysterious
Sliding tentacles wind up the being,
Useless struggling of broken wings
Curved is the flight facing the zenith.
You are withdrawing into the shell you took shape from.
The grey and chilly
Two female souls
Hunting here and there for their own EGO.
Why have we wandered so long
If the truth lay unspoken in ourselves?
Set about writing as you once used to,
Scatter by turns the petals
The raw grass verdure breaks through
The golden clay of our carving.
Modeled flesh of the leaves on martyr trees
Seals of the metamorphosis.
The sap of the plants...drops of life in the inert