I dreamt the act.

Harps were falling
down the abyss.
As she touched,
mine as well
slipped off the palm.
Multitude of treasures
covered them,
someone’s amulet too,
a falling device…
I stare and do not touch…
The golden crowns…
Arcs…
Pearl statues…
The stumbled, the alien…
Everything
falling like a snowflake collage
to the depths.
It’s like hiding
your soul in a dot.
A handful of broken glitter
like a blind man’s flash,
and I came back seeing.
A string was heard,
the falling of the snow
made
an ice rattle.

I dreamt the second act

I leave no questions
to my eye.
I have no hands.
They sewed with steel threads
attaching the dead, the alien
to my shoulders.
They giggled.
Their back and
the silent sunset they went for
cried.

(translate by my friend Dimitrije Švabić)