Light · Loss · Love · Rain

Bitter moon

To Victor

I could run my fingers
through your hair and wind on them
your black thoughts,
then your white hair would tell me
you are happy.

I could glide my fingers
on your chest and feel your heart beat,
for every day is a miracle,
then I would be the most loved human
on earth.

I could hide so deep
in a sunset,
that all in you would hungrily howl,
like a storm ransacking the sea,
devouring the ships heavy with diamonds.

I am made for you
like fireflies for enchanted forests,
I am made for you
like rain for grass.

My place is by you, our place is in the stars.
I will arise when you least expect me to;
inseparable – you and I,
the bitter moon is our mother.

Romanian version

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