Cristina M Moldoveanu

It was snowing too insistently, snowflakes almost as big as the eye, over nostrils, over half-open lips, over the white lace shawl from my grandmother, exactly when I was not supposed to wear

i still fear heavy furniture particularly that made of black polished rotten wood ... i wouldn’t visit anymore museums or antiquity houses even if they had no mirrors a sad song for a blue heart

each night I’m running through a nightmare transgressing into pink and purple since springtime until fall from my lost body drifting in the labyrinth between suns my viscera are good

my God why didn’t I stay a child bound to earth growing nests of potatoes stirring polenta at sunset the greedy city gates swallowed me from head to toes with the knapsack woven by my

I powder myself in the mirror dressed in Pierrot clothes my skullcap over ears and eyes it has been snowing so much that I can’t choose between black and white waiting for the spring to

- grabby man, why do you have such empty eyes? - it is not true child look deep and you will see crystal fish beneath the well’s gravel unimparted secrets

I stopped wanting and the rest is forgotten my temples sweat when I must wish for something even the gravity law seems an obstacle too big for my fall I lost almost all my dreams

Before my parents bought their car we went each summer to my grandparents’ village located exactly in the middle of Romania, first with a fast train. Then we were taking another slow train to reach

A little girl was in love with fairy tales. Her parents decided to leave her in her grandma's house and were visiting her from time to time. She was so happy there, playing alone with kittens and

1. Her eyes are truly not hypnotic Although her smile is mystery, Each man by nature too myopic Is guilty of adultery. 2. Because she had an empty purse, Still smiling strange like La

I bought from the antiquarian The Portrait of Dorian Gray with rancid leaves like stamps in an ancient collection I ran home scampering it was smelling like jasmines at the corners on

they have exiled me in a city with glass pavements from my yesterday remains only expired oxygen I’m breathing rarely from the depths like a diver only through a mask anyway no one

Why am I obsessed with sledges, can you tell me? I tried in vain to understand the whole story. In everyone’s life there are moments that matter and significant others leaving their prints in

I remember so well those days…as if I were looking through my father’s magnifying glass, one memory I keep in a drawer since my old man is been gone. In fact he was not so old, but he liked to call