The Moment Before Touch

    ©Iwan Gabovitch


    The air grows still.
    As in an illustrated weekly
    I leaf through your eyes.

    To hear silence
    as it walks in new shoes
    and lulls the buzzing bees.
    Somebody furiously addresses us with wings.

    It’s said that you’ve seen
    burning birds tumble from the sky!

    It’s just at the base of your breasts
    there’s something making a ceaseless hullabaloo.



    By Pavol Janik