to my titan MR55

you haven’t spent the nights with me on these heights
and from the tergum of this steely giant
you haven’t seen, with the pride of the one that has nothing to lose,
towards the canopy of stars
you haven’t slept in its arms protected by blackness
nor waken up kilometers away from home
in fear of a new day
the tension from its bones you haven’t felt
nor you’ve seen at dawn its exhalation rising from its flesh
effortlessly, with angel wings
you haven’t heard the steely teeth grinding during
the summer sun of August
neither you have admired how he bore without a word, majestic, the city
as a holy palm over seas of fog
nor stucking your cheek moisted by tears to the forehead
its forehead
neither listening to the echo from its womb
for ages
as a temptation longing on the evening loneliness.
you haven’t asked yourselves from where and how far you the expectation can stretch
or life
nor if from its shoulders
poetry could fly forever, for the
you haven’t listen to that troubled river of light flowing through its heart
therefore, this poem does not belong to you!
it will remain the poem of a single love poem with everything included or not
within its poetry
-love and friendship between a baby and the giant of steel
this poem, my life as a paper kite
traveling across all lost things
…barely a glimpse of you from here and I’d laugh at you
-as I don’t give a damn on the one I am –
as if I wouldn’t look hard-hearted of pity and fear
at the creation of my friend, sitting firmly on his feet
as a giant bridge wrapped over death.

(from ”we’re chameleons”, 2016, dedicated to the #collective moment)

Translated by Daniela Bullas