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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