Thursday, September 17, 2009


(into the open field)

threads strengthening the gauze of the skin

she’s floating on air

silently carefully tightly

white strands of hair against a bed

so time leans

against a floor

the mere shadows we are

barely touching

the seam


come closer

this mask

one dead
from a dream

leaving gravel

in a wind towards a meadow

reflected by the window

glass against a tree

running over naked bed

she is slowly singing
for your mouth


wonder how silently a fur can fall

bite the feet in place

train through
the houses

and the group stood ready

to stumble through the shadows

wedge those eyes in place

wait while gravel

is rushing forth

Emma Lundenmark
(translation MF)

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