by Anna Idelevich
I’m a little sleepy.
Sleepy and had no intention of writing anything,
more precisely, she was going, but not in a state of drowsiness.
I was insanely sweet yesterday
and I often woke up at night.What can I tell you?
We’re upset. If we weren’t upset
I would not say that we are upset,
like musical instruments.
On cracked cauldrons we tap the tongue of melody,
intended for a bear,
who scrapes over it, trying to reach the stars.
A sure symptom of an impending breakdown,
But that doesn’t mean anything.
More precisely, it only means that we
we are not much different from the previous us,
lovers, crazy, one-sided—
developed, grew up, you are a genius, I was drawn to you,
ended up sitting on the same bed
tightly clasping hands.
I won’t leave here, you won’t leave here
not because you can’t, but because you don’t want to.
And as Dark Daniel said: “If you disgrace, then disgrace to the end,”
and so, I continue.
Snow, snow, reception, snow.
Sometimes tough, sometimes sweet
but insane revelations to whom
to tears without gloss? To you, my throat.
Since I cut my heart
and half of your chorea
gave, does not stop bleeding and mechanical pistons do not help,
and streams flow one after another, after one.
Don’t look at us like we’re in a dilemma
we are the sweetest and most beautiful that sits under the sky,
and what is in heaven? Clouds, stars and bubbles.
Glorious, of course, but glorious and manger,
and pneumonia, from which the cough itself recovered,
and water diverging in puddles,
and always what else is about to pour.
Nonsense, don’t be afraid, it’s scary above, not down,
I do not call higher, but well, smile at me
before the hail falls again of revelations.
Do you remember the white garden and dragon-like snow, the furore?
How sweet it was yesterday.
I’m sorry, I’ve been talking nonsense for half an hour,
but this is impossible and shakes me like the first time always.
We will be left with stubs of two pencils and paper leaves in a portfolio.
Anna Idelevich, Ph. D., MBA, is a scientist by profession trained in the neuroscience field at Harvard University. She writes poetry for pleasure. Her books and poetry collections include DNA of the Reversed River and Cryptopathos published by the Liberty Publishing House, NY. Anna’s poems were published by BlazeVOX, Louisville Review, Salmon Creek Journal, Bourgeon Magazine, In Parenthesis, Open: Journal of Arts & Letters, and Gyroscope Review, among others. She hopes you will enjoy their melody, new linguistic tone, and a slight tint of an accent.