Instead of a photo or a drawing, on Christmas eve 2010

(for Yasha, Olivera eventually)

Don’t get me wrong-
The “wrong” sometimes gets hold of us,
Rears its ugly head
And then disaster, stupidity…

The light of reason is flooding my room now,
Then the ante-chamber and the entire church
Of my goodwill where the secret altar burns,
The innermost chapel of my heart,
You are in it too, shiny with that light
Brighter than the flames,
Dangerous to reach and lost to my touch

You dwelled in it for quite a while,
Not paying the rent, ignoring the angels
Their tired messages, the price was too high
The ossified bone-shell, expensive ivory-tower
In which our hearts used to speak, in rumours
Or in whispers, crying out loud, cackling,
Those hearts burned to ashes and then the smoke
Rising above the candles, floating in the air,
Yes, constantly floating, but what else
Could they do?

Nina Zivancevic © 2011