… And The Red Trace Down Your Eyes Poem by Miroslava Odalovic

When it glittered like a wound of open galaxies
With no road you stared at centuries ahead centuries behind
Naked down the bodies the shame was dripping
Of the first skywatch after the snake
When time bit both you and the bird
Spaces sat on chairs infinities to observe
Spaces leaning on the thought of their end
Agreeing to the thought of the end observing spaces
Amid the twilight a brush was dipped by the painter
It coloured the trails of the rainbows
That would be sold the morning everafter
To the slaves without the master on rumouring markets
Put in heavy chains staggering under the burden of words
On the lead made pavements under lead made steps
It walked you at dawn through an exhausted walk
Of endless repetition the light was eating you bit by bit
The one that merely wanted to be an opposite of darkness
And grew to the honour of every blindness it pushed you down my brother
Down the hollows of your own sight
Down the streams that were never stepped over
Rising to the point of flood
Like the breasts of earth when for the first time
You hunger stricken asked for its core
Down the forests when you cut
Her spring green her colourful autumn and dry summer blankets
For you wanted to leaf beyond a leaf
And you could dive in without the root
And you had been given too much
Like no one before
To build to speak to dwell to be
The bite of the snake the trace of the bite
The blood of the trace down your eyes
Into the red with no trace at all