Trafika Europe 8 - Romanian Holiday

Cobolt [Ten Poems]

Simple Poem

That evening, in dormitory yards alongside the bridge, you came to me as to a man you could love. Happiness blasted like a bullet — I thought it would splatter my brains on the pavement.

Next to us, three women were burying leaves in blue scarves like one buries their shame.

“It snowed in the mountains the night before,” our breaths braided around that Rexroth poem easy and shapeless with blank stare with collar raised between taxis which take you nowhere or take you anywhere in the night

anywhere but home

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