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i am hunger…

i am hunger 1i am hunger 2

All night you waited for morning,
all morning
for afternoon,
all afternoon for night;
and still the longing sings.

—Ruth Stone—

 

 

A taste of you slipped
into me
like moonlight in a
locked church.

—Janet Lees—

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mark of the beast (dodging bullets)…

A sea of faces parted and there, I found my heart.
a joy awoken that broke me wide open
A sea of kisses later, and there I left my mark.
a light reborn that guided me home
A sea of betrayals found me, and here I stand alone.
a dark i defy that was never mine to own

dodging bullets

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the encounter…

(enchanted by this strange proximity)

Longing, and mystery, and delight…
as if from the swaying blackness
of some slow-motion masquerade
onto the dim bridge you came.

And night flowed, and silent there floated
into its satin streams
that black mask’s wolf-like profile
and those tender lips of yours.

And under the chestnuts, along the canal
you passed, luring me askance.
What did my heart discern in you,
how did you move me so?

In your momentary tenderness,
or in the changing contour of your shoulders,
did I experience a dim sketch
of other — irrevocable — encounters?

Perhaps romantic pity
led you to understand
what had set trembling that arrow
now piercing through my verse?

I know nothing. Strangely
the verse vibrates, and in it, an arrow…
Perhaps you, still nameless, were
the genuine, the awaited one?

But sorrow not yet quite cried out
perturbed our starry hour.
Into the night returned the double fissure
of your eyes, eyes not yet illumed.

For long? For ever? Far off
I wander, and strain to hear
the movement of the stars above our encounter
and what if you are to be my fate…

Longing, and mystery, and delight,
and like a distant supplication…
My heart must travel on.
But if you are to be my fate…

— Vladimir Nabokov —
translated by Olga Voronina