(traductor: Arthur Rippendorf. Correctora: Elisabeth Williams)
A dress printed with seaweed
or some seaweed over a body
transformed into a dress, or even better,
skin camouflaged amongst the seaweed,
yes, skin camouflaged amongst
seaweed in the muddy sea, no,
floating, floating over the sea,
no, floating, floating over a
river, yes, floating, going down
the transparent river, yes,
the transparent river flowing within.
An unknown mystery floats in the air.
Infinite the caress which is yet to come.
The light goes out, I eat lightbulbs.
There are frogs jumping from my pockets.
It is raining outside and in.
There are waves in the bath.
There is a dark umbrella flying up into the sky.
From afar I would say it is a magpie.
The Pale Prayer
that’s what we are.
Alone, alone, alone
after a sudden slap on the back
on all fours
with the sound of cannons firing.
So much time brimming over.
If this came with instructions,
If only I knew how to say
that not to say is better.
What a disaster, I have been travelling for so long
that I won’t know how to come back to just one place.
The man who assures me
that he loves me
brings his fingers to my mouth
extracts copper threads from it.
They come out from my throat.
When he caresses them,
they melt in his palms.
I feel faint,
sustained by nothingness.