the iris of an eye cracks,
shattering down in marbles
echoing
the forgotten
the forbidden
ringing
the punishment
of needles and stones
in the cavity of a chest
so holy, full of lies
so merciful, full of hate
you kiss the palm of a hand
and collect the iris
of my eye
creating a half-souled brute
i harvest realities
in small crystal glasses
tears mixed with saliva
beings born
in the northern cold
cradling them in the palms
faceless epiphanies
for the gods of mine
i take a drink from the glass
to become a cannibal
eating my own pain
we sat on velvet thrones
in silk gowns
our veins lined in gold
all the luxury of hope
we had
full of life
i squeeze your arm before
a jump from an everest
down there
where my kingdom is conquered
i am sentenced to death
and you never existed
i sit on a dirt throne
all is a blur
six feet under
being pain architect
i built a castle
with walls from cold marble
of longing
i filled the bedroom
with beach sand
collected from your silky hair
waiting
i stared at my reflection in the sea
hoping
for you to appear
like lovers do in tales
in mysterious dreams
but my life stayed wide awake and real
so i set my castle on fire
making my heart a pyre
where dead lovers
are buried
you wrote your passion
in the atlas of wind
drawing lines on
distant shores
like lover’s skin
and I hear the gusts
scream out in pleasure
i wrote your passion
in the atlas of me
and i carved out
an endless envy
that i never could be
your wind
grey waters trickle
foam up in waves
running down your
back, soaking
in every pore
filling up the body
till it pours
out from the eyes
into the sea
where all the sadness
is kept
as a secret
i peel the skin off me
leaving naked
bleeding heart
for you to
to be disgusted
to be disturbed
for me to hurt
i peel the skin off you
leaving naked
rotten soul
for you to
to be uncovered
to be punished
for you to hurt
heavy and dripping night
full of jasmine scent
surrounds your head
and crowns you a
king just for this day
to take what’s yours
to step over the soil
of my grave
and lift me from ashes –
phoenix of shattered wings
written in fractures
an unreadable braille
i stand open-paged
longing for your fingertips
time stops, stumbling over
a thought, a view to
the infinite line cutting
through the sky and the sea
you stand in the water
waist deep singing
a voiceless hymn to life
blinded by sun
you sing crying
being tearless,
you sing
to the clenching betrayals,
to the deepest pains
while the waves
carries it back to
the blue sea.
Tallinn Poetry 