El dorado Markéta Pilátová
She met him once upon a time In ancient times His hands covered in bird feathers His body coated in gold every day And she knew movement was a weapon A gnawed bowstring arrows The body's smoke signals The jerky movements of trains
Are you crying? In our bed, where dusk is falling? Where the day is opening wide Where no long novels are read wind As a beggar stopped and stared
She met him once upon a time In another little death Book words, rattling them
Don't you know? Don't you know they're all just different shades? Different, all different sorts of gadgets in the kitchen And shelves filled with wisdom
She met him for the last time, parrot feathers Kissed his golden blinking doll eyes like some strange statue He turned around and said that everything has a story, nothing ends with a sigh, or lasting stillness, or even another little death. He talked for hours They gazed into the fire But the day opened wide like the legs of a tramp It was time to do it all over again Feeling out the new ways of darkness He went back, to ancient times The wind stopped and stared
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