Trafika Europe 8 - Romanian Holiday

Poems

Mr. Gică’s Love Poem

When I was young, I wanted to write you a love poem.

When I was young, I would see you in that long hallway, watching television, in a crowd of unknown people. Your legs were crossed. I was young, and I wanted to write you a love poem. I was sad I wasn’t Eminescu or even Sadoveanu, or someonewhocould recite, inanunforgettableperformance, “Hillside Eve.” It was autumn. You wore your hair up. I had never seen you with your hair up. I walked down the stairs with my eyes glued to your crossed legs, and I didn’t even have the nerve to say I loved you. I knew you knew I was looking at you. I walked down the stairs and into vocational school. I wanted to learn, for your sake, the most complicated hairstyles. ˲

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