A cursed poem


poetry reading BoskicIf you leave me

I’ll put a curse on you:

I‘ll embed my eyes

under your ribs

to wake you at night

and look through you;

I’ll glue my skin

on your fingertips

not to touch a thing

without feeling me.

I’ll nail my scent into every

Spring petal –

when you smell a flower,

my scent to stab you.


If I leave you,

because of a look

because of a word or two,

because of a subtle quiver

because of the time

that drips down the window,

because of the tender rapture,

blind, I will walk on Earth;

it will rain endlessly,

I will drown