roxanacazan

No llore niña Que tu bailarás el flamenco algún día. the little girl from her cradle saw the gypsy dancer whirling in the empty square, falda enraged – Vamo’ ya! body churn, incense,

when were you born Ruksana (princess of the lament) a handful of sweet basil would have been your name otherwise under the veiled scents of your skin a forehead of all the

veiled eyes of the raw desert along the calls of jigsaw silicium ankles rooted in compact dunes whose to say what is anguished or ecstatic sitting on a stone waiting for the night to

the sun prisoner of her armpits chained by her rattling ankles nailed in a narrow sky of this century a guiltless gust of wind rebelling curls captive under her hat large brims blessed

São Tomé is her life and just started 8 autumns I count (for autumn is so rich amarelo, vermelho, colorido, like the flame in her eyes like the bend of

I hide everywhere, eyes covered, I show myself like a mirage in the Strait of Mesina, I am born with the aurora borealis and my temples

Limpid was the spring that day Difficult to taste and feel Carbonized mornings will follow, Will flow, rippling, into a timeless estuary. Tomorrow will be an ageing yesterday, And dolphins

Empty streets People rushing up and down Invisible Silent The haunting autumn with a scent of prolonged rains Signed its name across the monochrome concrete Alone, I pass With a gust of

Snow again in Hermannstadt. Heavy flakes, maroon, pressing against the chimney tops, the trees, the asphalt Snow again in the city square, statues, Florentine, quattrocento bizarre, arches,

The sleep talking woman Found herself irregularly struck By the wind’s unintelligible mumble She grasped the zenith And took in the stars Trying to break what no man in white could break By

The innocent lass picking apples on a tumultuous Thursday evening in the barrels of the earth the wolves were howling hungrily for blood she took a walk to the sea and wet her locks in the

One has a watery blue color And a funny shape. Two tastes like sugar Especially when mixed with A vanilla essence of her and him. Three is a blind date Chewing gum

Say the magic word before you enter my heart Eyes covered and mouths dumb One day I decided to swallow up the sky Chew the mountains and breathe in all the seas I broke in two

i once decided to rid myself of you your crimson lips tempting my vanity tempting whisper haunting hangovers i once decided my sentences will end in a full stop a full, total, abominable

I was nobody’s friend When I woke up one morning Strange head rested upon The crumpled pillow Next to mine. Unclenched thirst and Queer memories foreboding In the air Of a past night When

To begin with, please, pass me the salt! Cause what can you taste in life but its salty spicy threats and challenges they dedicated their life in odes to. I said Please, pass the salt! It’s

She likes small things and small talk Sipping her hot tea in front of the telly And rereading the same old book in her garden seat Seasons changed and her youth Didn’t fade in her rosy

Look the moon is out again Mind the shapeless star that we once called ours Could you call me in the middle of the night Just to sign your name across my heart’s heart Too late for wishes,

She’d drink only skimmed milk and black coffee And take a furtive glimpse in that Semi crystal looking glass Every time she came out of the kitchen and Into her cozy quiet study She didn’t mind

It is not for you to be gay, Ye, ordinary perennials, Defenders of life and eternal revival. Forget thy words and follow no truth As centres dispersed float around everywhere Deafening

it’s getting darker on the corridor. I can still hear my old roars Of hysteric laughter. I met myself once, in the mirror, When I was about nine And I couldn’t stop starring Every time I passed

Have you ever listened to the growth of the grass And felt exiled on this nobody-has-ever-heard-of island Inside us? Deep down the mountains I once heard the obsessive tic-tac of time Dispersed