A Public Sphere for Poetry, Politics, and Nature. Over 400,000 monthly users. Over 6,000 archived posts.
And when I looked up at the sky --
hazy and blind.
With the crescent purple and yellow like an eye
after a fight.
When I opened
my mouth to take a breath,
I could smell your northern hair,
I could see your face.
Pale. White. Almost blue.
Don't ask me how,
but I know it was you.
And when the morning came,
lazy and gray,
with its sun looking tired like a washed out slut.
No! its sun looking worn like a child who's lost,
I looked up at the sky and could feel your heart,
blissful and bare.
I could hear your heart
and I became blissfully torn.
And that's when I heard:
love is within your reach.
Like a golden coin in the temple it is being tossed.
And drowning in this blessed news like a drunkard at the final feast,
I understood that nonexistence is its cost.
Copyright 2020 Yana Djin
Yana Djin was born in Tbilisi, Georgia and currently lives in New York. She writes in Russian and English.