Vera Anserova
Short Poems
I long for the silence of the yet unhatched butterfly.
*
The closer the gaze gets to the ceiling
the more it entangle itself
in webs.
*
You are woven out of endless love
it will burst from your lips
your eyes
from your body so impetuously
at the prospect of meeting anyone
that all thoughts of advance notice are forgotten.
And your memory is on fire
with endless loving relationships
that involve just one woman.
Translated by Daniel Weissbort
Page(s) 27
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