Saturday, July 28, 2007

unwords, by nichita stanescu

he offered me a leaf like a hand with fingers
I offered him a hand like a leaf with teeth
he offered me a branch like an arm
I offered him an arm like a branch
he tipped his trunk towards me
like a shoulder
I tipped my shoulder to him
like a knotted trunk
I could hear his sap quicken, beating
like blood
he could hear my blood slacken in like rising sap
I passed through him
he passed through me

I remained a solitary tree

he
a solitary man.

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