Heresy
Your love is a
heresy
Remoteness of belonging
Existing only
In the
haunted house of memories
Below the moody moon
That
glistens nonchalantly
There, where I sense the moment of
trust
That keeps on fading away
I touch your lips
But
it’s my fingertips that burn
I look into your eyes
But
it’s my chest that aches
Your smile
The inscrutable
picture
Is framed by your selfdom
Gleamy aura of your scent
Promises art and sunsets
It’s a trap
To wander
towards a sundown
Only to find myself trampled
By the heavy
feet of your rapture
Broken and paralyzed
By one dreary, flat line-
The only truth I’m left with
I
plant seeds
But we don’t sit together under that tree
You
plagiarize heartbeats
In your unique way of breathing
In
the realms of your mind
Puppets we all are
Your love is the
death of a poem
Daydreaming restlessly
I pour myself a cup
of longing
And grow into a pulse
A reaching, silent but
persistent
At the end of my tether
My broken-winged
hopes
For a handful of always and a pinch of forever
Stumble
upon the borders
Of the empire of your will
Your love is a heresy
I
think I heard my heart whisper
Forgiven you are.
Breath
Touch my
cheek
With the tip of your eyelash
You’ll hear songs of
mermaids
Go on a journey
Through my bloodstream
You’ll
see worlds
Floating inside mirrors of my pupils
Dilated
with longing for life
Let us have a stroll
Through the
memory lane
Of our future
We are but a possibility
Of
a possibility
Yet so immense, so powerful
Until love breaks
us
And eats the flesh of our bones
Even then, hearts
beat
And stars sparkle
Feel my fingertips
While my
whole being
Shakes and trembles with life
My gaze
directed
Towards a sunrise
I’m fluent in naming
scars
Still,
I carry my heart on a silver plate
Echoing
all hues of purple
From the very essence of my soul
I am a
constant birth
I’m all whispers on earth
When you scream
them out
I’m the lava-colored iron that bends
A
stewardess on a plane about to crash
The innocent, persuasive
smile
In front of a yawp
Intoxicated by love of stars
I
flourish from my ashes
I conquer the glistening of the sea
And
drown in it the very next moment
I scar and heal in a
heartbeat
There’s an ocean in my iris
And a star in my
chest
My eyelashes carry poems
All fragments of the same
dream
Breathe me, I am life.
Metanoia
What is it
The
moment in which it happens
The moment in which you happen
To
stumble upon the old means
To stumble upon the old ways
Of
no use
Upon days unwished for
Incomprehensible
darkness
That punches a hole in the throat
Until black ink
of pain starts leaking out
Is it when nights
turn dull and cold
The kind of cold that leaves you
motionless
When your chest cracks open in attempt to
forgive
Revealing black lava surrounding your heart
A
lonesome planet
Weeping for freedom
From the depths of an
echo
Consumed with a dream that repeats itself
Like mist of
a heavy perfume
Lingering in the air
Or feelings extinct
from home
Like taste of borrowed laughter
And sameness of
everyone else
Is it when your
soul decides
To open its eyelids to a fresh sunrise
To wake
itself up into firecrackers and magic
To hearts colliding into a
perfect poem
Embraces that take you back home
Through
hailstorms and kisses
Is it
luminance
The moment in which it happens
The moment in
which I happen
To stumble upon myself
And slip from habits
into existence
Not to be a stranger
Forgotten in the fields
of my chest
Anymore.
Olga Gojnić
