IRINA MOGA

Concave, convex, the angles of the buildings

show me the limits imposed by silence.

 

I’d like to sketch an edifice, a smile,

a mix of verbs in a shredded architecture

that would advance the contours

of the air.

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Branches dissolving into the sky,

lamps on stilts of sleep,

towards which the illumination of the night retreats

voiceless, in neon dreams.

 

Viewpoints nestle on the ground.

The lazy evening sprawls on a solitary bench

where a heart still beats, alive,

pierced

by an oval line.

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This pictopoem was originally published in dANDelion Magazine Volume 36, issue i/ii and is part of the book "Pictopoems of Berlin."