“Postcard with insomnia” by Iulia Gherghei
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“Postcard with insomnia� by Iulia Gherghei
Postcard with insomnia
I've forgotten a word on my lips while I was sliding into the sleep the dream had no titles I was no human any more A leaf lounging on the lake pushed by a paddle in a mad dance... freeze the frame the kid is howling into the night the heart is jumping out of chest... she wants to drink water I'm spinning in a mad dance with thousands of whispers the sleep is left on the lake I am human again sliding into the night stop
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“Postcard with insomnia� by Iulia Gherghei
About a father's sicken soul I have erased his memory from my soul keep telling myself he didn't left marks there He might be dead now! I don't even care... has been dissolved, has been evaporated Dust on a blade forgotten in sun The Blood the one that unites us... It does not, I tell you! It's an illusion! Between us only the arrowheads remained with their poisons always activated by the saliva of the one who troughs away the glove Here comes the strike that blows off the compromise! It is like I listen to the same hate record only now, the voice is hissing as the snake takes over that man who once was my father... Every day it gets clearer forgiveness can't happen there where it has been broken; it has been humiliated and spit the blood... Infuriated, the D.N.A bent over his serpentine so, I've liberated myself!
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“Postcard with insomnia� by Iulia Gherghei
Trust You put your heart into my hands you trusted me to ease the pains what can I pour on your wounds? The honey of my voice, the warmth of my eyes?! I am too afraid to hurt the air with sounds of my lips kissing the empty space of despair wait till the next beat of your heart will touch my inner ear then I'll burst in love!
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“Postcard with insomnia� by Iulia Gherghei
The winter is near...
The world seems friendly tonight when cold owns the streets, I sit near the window sipping the darkness as black coffee hot in the morning, cold was the word of the week coughing and sneezing my kid turned the nights into deep seas of fear, tonight the cold arrived to its end the world is friendly again the winter is near.
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“Postcard with insomnia� by Iulia Gherghei
My muse... out of order!
Maybe, tomorrow my muse will come, maybe, such a word full of hope... My muse runs away when the grey sky, dirty and smelly streets come my way she gets smaller and smaller, melting her essence into the drain when cursing is the music that the streets play surely, my muse will come tomorrow with her smile bringing sun on the colourless sky Maybe I'll be home for her! Home such a comfy feeling...
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“Postcard with insomnia� by Iulia Gherghei
The Dragon nightmare I wish I've been a dragon lost somewhere in a castle I wish I've been a dragon starring in the mirrors burning with my breath the curtains I wish I've been a dragon flying over seas finding nest in the princess eye who else but a dragon can fall in love with the wrong girl, in the worst moment when the prince cuts his throat merciless taking the girl as war prize living the dragon in his own black blood missing his flight in the princess night who else but a dragon could I wish to be?!
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“Postcard with insomnia� by Iulia Gherghei
The abyss of one I am alone in my narrow word who to compare my shadow with do I need more than one... new is my coat but the inside?!!
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“Postcard with insomnia� by Iulia Gherghei
Letter to my mother, the only inhabitant of heaven!
Mother, let me build your heaven! You would be a butterfly caressed by the sun and the snake frozen by your sight would lose his poison The entire view would borrow its colour from the your wing's rainbow The rest you should find it into my palms there you would tuck in with my soul I should watch your sleep together with the grey and curly doggy for nourishment I should serve you my eyes my tears you'll drink to calm the thirst ... Yes, mother, with your permission, I will build you the heaven!
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“Postcard with insomnia� by Iulia Gherghei
The crock
"Now" is a round word waiting for the splinter to burst its beginning rolling the vowel like a damnation we take upon us the guilt of overwhelming in desolation we retreat ourselves stretched traps for the few!
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“Postcard with insomnia� by Iulia Gherghei
"Damn it..."
The kid is angry the shoe is no fit for the doll the pink gown is no match for the green purse big sorrow I am smiling I am at ease the kid is playing there in her room She built her fairy here comes the prince on his white horse Everywhere good fairies flying Mother, I'm hungry And here I have a part in this play I am feeding a princess, a little terrorist, one and ten high( in cm) whom I always have to remember that sentences do not begin with " I want " "Please, mother turn on the cartoons" "I will give you chocolate if you eat the apple" "We won't go in park if you don't take a nap" "Tell me what's next to three if you want to play dice games..." That’s how we negotiate me, the dragon mom with the beast-princess together urging for break the day when the kinder garden is starting!
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“Postcard with insomnia� by Iulia Gherghei
Illusions
We don't need dreams... They are like a disease it sticks on your blood cutting deep into your long orifice of the pupil. Dreams... They are crushing our leaves Spit the spine Mirroring us in thousand of shreds The pyres are fired The ashes have the same taste The stacks have holy faces In the air, the apples are sour....
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“Postcard with insomnia� by Iulia Gherghei
Words
I am scarred blank page in front of me waiting my words today, a good day someone told me I am hungry for your words give me more from where do they come these words with their dance, with their music with their passion through my blood that make my eyes moist and misty so I lose control Am I addicted to this state of mind? Are they my medicine against death, my cry for help cast throw the universe? Today, a good day all the rocks that spin around us are deaf!
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“Postcard with insomnia� by Iulia Gherghei
At last...
Our bones' story is waiting to be read Sadly, nobody will feel de urge to find out the trivial sequence of happenings that we lived The still puzzled dinosaurs are reflecting the grim clash of the ice age that is the prime time news of their bones The last flash news is yet to come... Our bones won't be read The time will suspend its dimension The sun, the terrorist, will stop the clock by explosion Tic, Tic Disappearance in two steps The dinosaurs were choked by snow We will slowly burn In ashes we will return as established before And the ashes, is known, has nothing to tell In the newborn vacuum it will float, it will spread the silence There, in void silence at last!
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“Postcard with insomnia� by Iulia Gherghei
Prelude...
The rain penetrates... On my skin long marks are, hard smells... the thrill is in the thunder give me your lips to sneak the liquor in the bitterness of a teeth stuck deep in my flesh...
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“Postcard with insomnia� by Iulia Gherghei
The intruder
To chase me out they would like I stand across their throats yet, they have no guts to stare with their eye like a splinter they keep the knives hidden polish them every day they would like my blood to wash their feet and my eyes to crush the punches I ignore their existence, suffering, hatred useless they whip my surface won't demolish the temple I even laugh of their fierce swarming They dig me, bury me I, yet alive, breath and defy them From the top it seems an endless comedy
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“Postcard with insomnia� by Iulia Gherghei
Butterflies
We were between us the flatterers We lick our faces In a compact circle of lies The sunrise found us tired With the cigar's smoke in the mirror Waiting for the liquid fire to burst We were some stiffs with dried out tongues eardrums stuffed with words We were tending to the blue with burned eyelids The soul was squeezed from us now draining into the parquet cracks We were noble dust with coquette scent
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“Postcard with insomnia� by Iulia Gherghei
Lately
I always wake up with the same question in my mind why don't I deserve any... And all the others accuse me of ungratefulness I admit Nothing works for me Nobody is good enough ... To put my head on a pillow To sleep To wake up restful Not to fear Is it too much to ask, I wonder I probably don't deserve it! I have to run to lose my breath to sit down only in the car that drives me to the work to sleep only when the bus stop is red Restful only when the kid is smiling sliding on the slider... I probably don't deserve a time to be human I am a mom...
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“Postcard with insomnia� by Iulia Gherghei
The cactus flower day...
Today I've made a cactus The blood sprang out and painted the thorns as flowers I flew up to the skies and from above that stain rich for perfection I am an artist, I said What else could I do with my own blood on this earth ... In what should I reflect my infinity?! And suddenly I felt an urge for blue I called it water water, earth, cactus... I'll leave for tomorrow the clay that will shape up the Predator I'll leave for the last day the birth of the monster that will destroy my garden Still, I'll keep it just for me Only my celestial eyes to be sting by cactus flowers and from their wound to be borne angels to fly together to breath the fairness of this last day The cactus flower day...
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“Postcard with insomnia” by Iulia Gherghei
God’s innocence in a sense
Was god innocent when created the universe? Is innocence a disease that fades away when time is running out and dirt penetrates our flash? Is innocence that died when the apple touch our lips? If still the innocence would run through our veins would we appreciate the godly deed?!! So, again I wonder how innocent was god when he forbidden us the tree?!!
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“Postcard with insomnia� by Iulia Gherghei
The girl from the bus said: Yes!
The girl from the bus said: Yes! Yes! I've lifted up my arm I've hung tight by the metallic bar I am in the bus and someone stick his nose as if he wishes with all his being to enter my arm pit Yes, my blouse is so translucent And its transparency leaves out my greenish body Yes, I am a fresh flower from the fields That your city nose suffocated by asphalt wouldn't smell ever Yes, caress me all with your breath in the canicular squeeze as if a hair dryer will spin to my neck touch me with your sober up poet thoughts We still have an entire yard of hugs and a thousand dreams in the horizons.... Too bad, you and your shirt written with a stupid logo will lose yourself in a late reverie without poetry...
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“Postcard with insomnia� by Iulia Gherghei
I can't write about autumn
I can't write about autumn when we are in the middle of July and his incandescent air is torturing my noon hours I can't write about autumn when alone in my humid sheets, in my suffocating nights I fight the insomnia I can't write about autumn when I long for its cold mornings for its long and red sunsets, for its multicolour leaves for its anticipation of winter holidays I can't write about autumn when lonesome in my life, in my dreams I am paralysed with fear and shivers of cold autumns are sighing in my ears... The empty bench under the colourful tree of autumn is a wish about how my life should be so; I am waiting for that autumn when leaves can whisper happiness
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“Postcard with insomnia� by Iulia Gherghei
Prayer
I've danced with my feet in the flames sniffing My skin sizzling My blood in this way it was redder, shier The stones had a sense in this saint drama, they were defying us I left my trace in the palm and I squeezed as hard as I could I remained a dust on the others lips Spit with veneration in the mirror On the street the rivers are gathering... And once more the evening prayer
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“Postcard with insomnia� by Iulia Gherghei
Equilibrium
Rare gaze over the edge a dance on tip toes between two moods you choose be happy take a spin in steps of tango be desperate... Sometimes simply being is a difficult process Equilibrium A state of soul emerged in seas of feathers Pillows to soften the gap One shore has the storm On the other... the dream is on
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“Postcard with insomnia� by Iulia Gherghei
It might be
It might be somewhere a wound in the centre where the spring comes out it might be that the soul coagulates to the bone and out there beyond the windows caressed by the sun the happening takes place in slow pace the despair that arises from broken glasses stings the sunset... And then it will flow...
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“Postcard with insomnia� by Iulia Gherghei
Playful...
Your smooth touch... your eye is dressing me with white feathers slowly, slowly you're shrouding me as a tomcat in search of a victim You dance a mad dance on the edge of the lip Sniffed by a hungry beast I dare, I squeeze, I run ... you tenderly besiege my figure and craving, you sip the very proper prey I... Thousands suns seem to smile to me Now that I give in to you, Abandoned in...
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“Postcard with insomnia� by Iulia Gherghei
Come, my friend!
Come, my friend, enter my temple! Light candles on my opened wounds opened to the crowds come! I have a story for you stay calm into the shadows of my walls I'll pour only love whispers in your ear Forget your sunny desert Come! Into the dark dropped from the mirror come! in the story there is enough place for one more destiny Up there, under my temple's roof will be our oasis and the sound of their tears will be the spring from where the storyteller begins Come here in deep shadow Put your soul in my palms I'll return it enhanced with the smoke of my ashes Come! Have no fear my temple is echoing just for you!
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“Postcard with insomnia� by Iulia Gherghei
Letter to a most respected poet
Oh, dear poet, your love of us, mortal creatures with nasty smells, with looks like devils disguised in angels, or the other way around, dusty and furious and most of all, lusty approaches you to god himself Why is my question, why are you still singing a virtue that never been ours only your perfect reflection in the mirrors of heavenly waters? I hope we meet in our next journey through human meadows hope that milk will spring in our galaxy finally
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“Postcard with insomnia� by Iulia Gherghei
The panic at the end of the world...
The world is ruined inside us The drums announce the end in an infernal pace Muezzin voice crying from the minarets Bells desperately pounding Cross made with sweaty hands The Sabbath is rest for Eloim The world is ruined inside us quietly each lie each crime with every cowardly The world is ruined God will recreate it if he wants right now only if he wants...
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“Postcard with insomnia� by Iulia Gherghei
Love song
Who needs love? I most certainly don't! My definition of love: it is an illness, a psychiatric one Can you imagine: to be addicted to a person seems OK!!! instead smoking is a dangerous addiction Both are lethal sometimes Now I heard that love only takes three years Some hormone is no longer produce after a while Exactly as in any sickness Bad news: you can't fight hormones So I was in love, probably soon love will infect me again Is very sad when suddenly you wake up with a total smelly stranger next to you who behaves like he owns you That's a crap moment Who needs love? I most certainly don't! The prince turned to frog!
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“Postcard with insomnia� by Iulia Gherghei
Never enough...
Never enough Never enough always hunger for more I am a collector of fulfilled desires running in a hurry to the next glittering piece of nothing I feel dead only when my pockets are empty of lust Possessing is my drug I'm yours, she's mine Is the song that pours honey into my veins So, intoxicated I turned to the ground Waiting for the dust to bite me.
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“Postcard with insomnia� by Iulia Gherghei
The Black hole
I need to explain this world to put myself in my place in my spot in this universe I need to believe there is a order A scheme for which every atom joins another atom for which every bee flies over her flower only for which I take every breath one at the time for which I still hope that love is the centre of every galaxy even if we've chosen to call it The Black hole
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“Postcard with insomnia� by Iulia Gherghei
New galaxies
It's late in night Dark sky with clouds hiding indifferent stars Covers my dried out eyes dried out of hope, of dreams dried out by endless pain "my neck is relaxed " "my neck is relaxed " I have to repeat over and over again to escape from the terrible torment Fear of death, fear of suffering all my life is a dance on the edge Where is the promised happiness? What is this shadow that I'm chasing like crazy? It's late in night the game of snooker is over stars are crushing into each other new galaxies are borne so that explains the firecrackers in my eyes...
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“Postcard with insomnia� by Iulia Gherghei
A new trip
I lost track of time I lost myself in the vertigo of everyday life who am I? What do I want to take with me from this well defined journey? Are there answers for these simple questions? I could continue this way all along... so many like me... The earth is still spinning the sun is still burning death is a refuge sweet emptiness bits and bits of anonymous dust so being humble and simple it is just a rehearsal before a new trip
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“Postcard with insomnia� by Iulia Gherghei
A glimpse of heaven
April flower so pure, so clean is your flavour In an instant you sent me back to youth My wings are spread again and I return to ancient times The flight I take when I can feel your grassy smell when white and yellow, pink drops of colour touch my eye Is like a spin from a perfect tornado Is like a rain sprung from god's eyes tears of Eden... So, what on Earth do I need more?! A glimpse of heaven pouring butterflies in my life
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“Postcard with insomnia� by Iulia Gherghei
Enjoying life
The truth comes to me with so many mouths so many colourful tongues it jumps out from so many mirrors so I'm confused do I have an option?! Can I bargain a new truth, my own Can I ignore all the other truths you may certainly try but are you prepared to pay the prize? From my experience with the history any new truth was borne in a blood bath As far as I am concern establishing that truth is only a convention I choose to free myself by Living enjoying life truth by truth
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“Postcard with insomnia� by Iulia Gherghei
The pill
Take the pill- he said the pill that keeps you inside the system keeps you calm, keeps you from asking questions In fact what is the truth A convention, a mutual agreed fact Tomorrow another bargain, another truth but now, to stay inside this system you have to swallow this pill this little lie together with that little lie swallowed by you day by day till you'll need no more truth -Give me the pill, he cried - I can't cope with this world So, it all resumes in what pill you decide to begin a new day the truth then will have its colour
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“Postcard with insomnia� by Iulia Gherghei
Nothing
Nothing came to me It was smooth It was humid and warm I let myself embraced by Nothing Empty defines a volume So, nothing came to me as a void kissed me, abandoned me into a bliss I, myself, let go any strings that may have attached me to the grounds ... Nothing is the perfect suitor Anonymous, odourless lover The one who is a pleasure to wait for more or less a whole summer
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“Postcard with insomnia� by Iulia Gherghei
Old age
prisoner of my bad temper in search of my light past when I used to laugh my tears out everything was a reason for laughter jokes on everyone I was the soul of the party the champagne was in my eyes now the joke is on me I've suddenly realized that laughter had abandon the ship I enjoy only the sound of a quiet evening alone...
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“Postcard with insomnia� by Iulia Gherghei
The dance poem
her round arm circling the air her oval, pale face - a dream, a flight of butterflies she is spinning... spinning on my windy thoughts music takes us on cosmic rides her immaculate ballerina dress pours drops of happiness rain and sun are all around take me dear in your dance!
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“Postcard with insomnia� by Iulia Gherghei
Middle life
Now it's a time in my life when my engines run slowly In fact I have energy just to watch others pass by to watch leaves turning green to really breath the air and sense the smell of a fresh born flower Now I run the movie of my life backwards I'm stunt how always in a hurry I used to be obsessed to be free, nobody to interfere in my way Now when I am tired, and maybe smarter and for sure older I stopped by the river side, watched my face in the watery mirror and cried.
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“Postcard with insomnia� by Iulia Gherghei
About kindness The bread is warm, Bread is good Steamy and appealing to your nostrils And I do not know why you're happy A little It's good, it's hot It's almost as sweet as a mother And it's a sunny autumn A little cold But at your breast hot bread you carry And it's good that you sink In childhood nearby your mother When your father was the empty field And milk from bottle you drunk unfolding the lid And it's hot And sticky and steamy And you become almost Friendly in the autumn...
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“Postcard with insomnia� by Iulia Gherghei
I can't write about autumn
I can't write about autumn when we are in the middle of July and his incandescent air is torturing my noon hours I can't write about autumn when alone in my humid sheets, in my suffocating nights I fight the insomnia I can't write about autumn when I long for its cold mornings for its long and red sunsets, for its multicolour leaves for its anticipation of winter holidays I can't write about autumn when lonesome in my life, in my dreams I am paralysed with fear and shivers of cold autumns are sighing in my ears... The empty bench under the colourful tree of autumn is a wish about how my life should be so, I am waiting for that autumn when leaves can whisper happiness
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“Postcard with insomnia� by Iulia Gherghei
What an irony!!!
so, we are in nuclear crises an economical crises a spring crises and in this state of affair I am writing poetry what an irony I am contemplating skies waiting for fluffy white clouds To pour tears of death in our grounds I am writing poetry what an irony They are crying for help, starving and chocking with white smelly ashes Death is inside them Once more I am writing poetry what an irony The sun had exploded The radio cloud had passed The trees had blossomed What an irony I am writing poetry ...
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“Postcard with insomnia� by Iulia Gherghei
In their cherry shadow
Cherries to stick my teeth in their meat, their red Stream fill my lips with comfort delights Perfect kiss... I drown in their blood The righteous muscle of utterance It is an act of love Cherry frail body to knead Trapped in our solar fury It is an act of debauchery The detachment from the core The future begins his story Once it will come back To crush its creature into my mouth I promise to wait for an orchard to leave my ashes Resting In their cherry shadow
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“Postcard with insomnia� by Iulia Gherghei
Mourning
My soul is stacked vertigo is my second nature chewing, talking, drunk ... into a wound end when you get down the collar is the question that rang in my ears all the time as if they care that I carry on my neck like Atlas the land suddenly I am old with half a century my mother seems more alive in any case she can carry a loaf tingle, tingle my left ear the nostrils, cold shivers creeping comes ... comes for the second time the infernal pain explode I reached a point which pain infuriates me I feel my neck is hot pulsating in rhythm of despair cry tingle, tingle my left ear my eyes flow I am stuffed with pills waiting for tomorrow migraine
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“Postcard with insomnia� by Iulia Gherghei
The ear infection
Do you feel my pain? You make me laugh! My pain will never rest into your vein Only the shadow of my torture will cross your way my pain is just my pain I am selfish about it I don't share my earthquakes, my dark shivers the knives splitting my brains No, no, I am sure This pain is no toy for you Do you hear?! My ear is singing the migraine is here to stay Let us dance death for dinner Breakfast in bad temper Supper in vain ... Do you still feel my pain? Do I still hear my cry for help? Dissolution in crocodile's tears!
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“Postcard with insomnia” by Iulia Gherghei
She knows!
In my roads I pass by a sad street lantern I don't know why it is sad Maybe because almost like in a hug someone stays close to it borrowing its colour It's midday and his eyes are extinct I feel how he vibrates inside him is a tension Something under his feet is moving, shudders the shadow He would have smiled... I sense some fluffy pity under my skin for the man stuck in the lanterns Helplessness I pass forward and leave behind sad perfumes it’s all I could do....
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“Postcard with insomnia� by Iulia Gherghei
Anonymous the lover is transmitting from the sight
Another day to watch the wind dancing in her hair to breath the air that follows her to keep it in my lungs for just a second I'm stunt on this piece of side walk one with the lighting tree Another day The heat of second is bursting in my ear When I watch her coming ... And jolly is her figure Full of promise the day is Humble, I let myself vanish into her eyes' depth And thrown away into the skies a second later a stranger for I am just Yes, but I was there in her sight and that's a victory The seed for many dreams here, under the lighting tree
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“Postcard with insomnia� by Iulia Gherghei
In the air
I feel it in the air in this wind that tickles caresses and heals the frozen soul I feel it in the air My nostrils smell The deserted eye is defrosting and everything gets colour I feel it in the air the spring fortune It's green in my taste It's green in my smell My ear is dancing with green New leaves are shimmering the petals are trembling Today We are lucky In spring
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“Postcard with insomnia� by Iulia Gherghei
The Spring Exercise
I should be happy the trees have blossomed over the town the odours are floating Fragrances of joyful yellow, white, flowers I should be sad Walking down the city's alley Ugly by our gas emission I should be joyful The kids have an infinite appetite for play It is peace I should be sad The cancer is doing his work in the town people are hiding their scalp under the ugliest scarf I am and I should exist the town is on my nerves Today I cast away the garbage I am lighter with a bit of dust Which I await to breath it back The first corner of the street It's spring
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“Postcard with insomnia� by Iulia Gherghei
The wolf
I have cold blood On my lips I were unravel wolf's signs I sell myself in each winter by the teeth and bite the curse from the fruit I guess the luck in your palm and paste it on my forehead, the autumn's fortune Love in my spine with seeds alive and the eye is calling me drooling for another day I have cold blood My warm body is free from his bones On the wolf's lip
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“Postcard with insomnia� by Iulia Gherghei Dead or alive game
First I had no legs just an immense stiffness The helplessness annoy me Choke me to death They all put honey into their voices Their damnation was oozing on their eyelashes Hope was caught in stitches And death is drinking a bear on "Happy hours' The mattress took out its thorns to the fair They mangle my bones Now I was nothing but a bag full of worms with some order in it From time to time They twist me Bath me They kept the appearance of a body Should I go on telling the story About the smells and the sludge... How I was starring myself from the sealing... I would have drink champagne And caviar I would have eaten Instead Drops of water they put on my lips The good ones The bad ones All together Why hadn't I a button An off button My only relief In death I was carrying all that in me was unstoppable
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“Postcard with insomnia� by Iulia Gherghei
In the end, my cell's war I won Then in that January When for me " Young and restless" Was over!
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“Postcard with insomnia� by Iulia Gherghei
The migraine
I will wait until The darkness will twist Its roots into the land of my eyes Sucked by the wind Like a sweet caress I'll stretch Between the dry surfaces of the pupil Dried by the dreams I'll squeeze myself for a scream Halls in the runaway Will open into the my artery's Madness And blood will burst Infuriated
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“Postcard with insomnia� by Iulia Gherghei
The dream
I've split a dream in two The seeds were chewing the sunset The fruit's thrust it was bitter I've understood the sadness as fruit Into the rusty fall Away is the love Useless melancholy of the stinky meadows The maiden prayer's is like a wind Cut by the sins The whip won't touch the humble Love is a thorn from our ribbons I've understood but too late The world had reached its spine We've remained the taste of our wishes only And we've longed for the sin Only by desire ever since
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“Postcard with insomnia� by Iulia Gherghei
Since
Since the air Still caresses us And the leave tickles our eye And the apple spreads his aroma still I propose to forget Forget then that in every breath we take The poison is in triumph Forget then that the leaf Could turn into a spear For your eye Forget then that the worm Carved his way to the treasure In the flesh of your apple Since death Has no taste, aroma or colour It only remains To cook it As we prefer
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“Postcard with insomnia� by Iulia Gherghei
Unpopulated heaven
I think people have invented death to get vengeance on God what a sacrifice he made to abolish the ugly border He even put his blood on the cross what have we learned from here? We add in the torture book a new way to enjoy death We are the Maestro, we induce and produce pain with the artisan's finesse And, revenge after revenge, we destroy any chance to return there... Where the tools of pain are only the snake's thorns
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“Postcard with insomnia� by Iulia Gherghei
I miss the summer...
I miss the summer That June day In my wedding gown The smell of happiness All around us New life New taste Champagne The kiss I miss the summer rain A shower to wake me up Too late That day of summer A bubble carrying a dream of happiness Flew away Turned back as a bitter memory
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“Postcard with insomnia� by Iulia Gherghei
Watching the sky everyday...
I am watching the sky everyday waiting for it to speak to me and it is silent, dropping into my eyes blue poisons I feel like I'm becoming a snake unable to fly only to drag with me the heavenly wonder I am cold, doomed to lose myself through the corners, The nostalgic circles
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“Postcard with insomnia” by Iulia Gherghei
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“Postcard with insomnia” by Iulia Gherghei
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“Postcard with insomnia” by Iulia Gherghei
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“Postcard with insomnia” by Iulia Gherghei
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“Postcard with insomnia” by Iulia Gherghei
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“Postcard with insomnia” by Iulia Gherghei
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“Postcard with insomnia” by Iulia Gherghei
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“Postcard with insomnia” by Iulia Gherghei
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“Postcard with insomnia” by Iulia Gherghei
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“Postcard with insomnia” by Iulia Gherghei
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“Postcard with insomnia” by Iulia Gherghei
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“Postcard with insomnia” by Iulia Gherghei
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