someone was reading aloud what was written on a scroll
stuffing mites in our memory (both the mites and us were really upset)

the gramophones were melting
all the objects were falling off the clothes
we were looking for that wandering fountain where no one has drowned
we were gathering tears next to the Skittles,
in wooden handkerchiefs – we’ll just
look at them another time

I was here, and so were you, but so far away,
the sunlight was going past some dirty windows

we used to meet from time to thought with large backpacks hung on our voices
we used to silently greet like mountain people with years of experience gathered in a rod
(I once dreamed that I was sleeping near your Godzilla heel,
but that’s another story –
a fire truck was splashing you with water so that you might
leave quickly, abandoning the city, or get up and make love to me)

tired, at night, I used to sit
in the armchair on the lake-hearted plain
carried close to my heart
I was falling in love with you
and reached its house down there
say it all! say it! love said and I was shouting
from a photo taken in childhood
in which my height reached up to a Neapolitan Mastiff’s muzzle

the ones around were not intervening even for themselves
they were waiting for the green light or passing by boat on the lake, on Saturdays

I was holding my bones in a full derailment
say it all! say it! and I was shouting
there was no one to shut me up

when everything calmed down,
I used to send you letters from resorts with a view to flesh
covered in human skin I used to sit in my hotel room
why! the bone marrow was keeping so mum!

when the morning caught me,
I fell asleep among the workers
who came to insulate the building

Translated by Daniela Zăloagă for the Romania-basedmagazine
Contemporary Literature Horizon, issue 6/2013