SURLEAC MARIUS

WOUNDS

on the cabinet ghost’s tracks filling the holes within the soul
with oscillatory movements the photos change their signatures
I ask for oblivion pain leading me to the edge of the tears’ fall
echoes spinning through slashes of time and pulling the senses
back to the past

the origins split in the whirlpool of movements
the beliefs once have been born in a child’s mind

the laugh of the sisters and brothers helping the spirit to revive
the blood to strike stronger through the heart that was lost in silence
days are not the same as they used to be in the smiles of the summers
and nights are crawling naked through nightmares for the beast will come
near my wound

shapes were modified in the wide universe
filled with wisdom for the new ray scattering

many of the days are discovered underneath the bloody sunsets
scraping smoothly the sky’s clouds I find far away my mother’s
aspect in the kitchen sobbing between the empty walls of the
house that turned into a small piece of hell with dust wiping
the mind of a grown-up

on a white piece of paper the wind spreads out
little dunes with the weird shape of the memories

in the cabinet a tear elevates
from a stuck eye that
never will
close