the lines of your skull

von Smaranda Popescu

the lines of your skull sit
quietly in my hand
perfectly aligned disorderly
your eyes rest on
my fingers they measure the eyelids you
shut when you remember
the things unspeakable
the lines of your skull sit
perfectly aligned disorderly
in my hand ’til i start
to soften
there was an earthquake at
the very base of your being
i call the other side of the world
someone some force to witness
this understanding and how
i stood still
we speak a language invented
by an unknown wind
the lines of your skull
aligned in a mirror when
searching for my face
the cold came after
with a breeze
we sang to each other
with broken teeth
no traces of a human body
were found
after the music