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Larisa Berezovchuk

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Calm rocks to sleep in your usual place

Calm rocks to sleep in your usual place.
Sooner or later
you will have to believe in the reality
of tales about the Leviathan.
How caressing is the music of inertia. We swim on,
swim on, blessing the darkness . . .
Further. Only occasionally
alongside us it suddenly becomes empty –
that’s some submarine creature
disappearing too early: the outer casing
could not stand the friction. The tension
becomes ash
in the materialised length of the womb.
Well? For those left behind
the loss is not noticeable.

But sensing the inevitable,
the adrenaline starts to scream, although
nothing is happening yet. What can happen
in an identical situation? If you do not know
the beginning and end;
for a stream, the middle is everywhere.
When you are alone you get out of the habit of fearing. The
place is the source of gravity. Fate –
and it is the same for all of us –
of the centrifuge, a somersault which is not noticed.
If you are not ill with schizophrenia, you begin to feel
gravity – the balance
between the poles: to know that the womb is shaken
in the surf by the arrhythmic waves. In it
the specks of submarines
spark with the potential of another’s energies.
The switch of tension is switched on,
interfering with the reading of the monster’s pulse.

Translated by Richard McKane

Page(s) 36

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