ANDROGYNOUS

I sniff the crucifixion

of the soul

in mirrors

dry

of people

hugs, of long lost loves

with beams

of lights

which cry

after some Sisyphus

from the Chronos’

pendulum.

A lint of darkness

In an existential safe deposit...

***   

Written by Băţmîndru Lucia

Translated by Romulus Florian ADAM