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,

soaked,
you’re standing on My doorstep,
veins gone numb,
soul dripping.

(don’t awake my misery,
I bellow)

mouth gone mute,
eyes scream.
my arms petrified
my arms, vast fields
for your barren
harvests.

– you were first to leave,
I hear myself saying.

(a train shrilled in the morning,
a letter delivered in year’s time:
betroth to someone else)

standing petrified
on the moon’s rim,
each at their own side
of the doorstep.

– my father’s house is in shambles.
I heard your back saying.

June, 2012

Photo taken in the village Kozle, Skopje Region, Macedonia