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whispering city
blaring-chattering fountains
weeping train-tunnels
in prayer, I am taking
the one - thy name: my silence
Diána Bósa Apr 6
As the lights of the day bled into each other
a silence, like a shady veil, fell between us.
It was more like a worn-out pilgrim:
he came home to stay:
placing his muddy shoes on the doorway
for knowing no wayfarer ones remained.

Without a shadow of a doubt, I used to angelize you.
And you needed no enlightening for your still
kept sharpening your shiny blades.
Now I am at aphelion;
further from the breathing blaze than ever
yet still I am capable of coming clean:

to realize that your shadow only paled me.
Diána Bósa Dec 2018
Trapped in your mirrorverse
I put my faith in thy hands:
Guide me or lose me
It is all up to you.
Within these walls of your eternal reflections
It doesn't matter
Whether you’ll be my thread of Ariadne,
Leading me out of this cold labyrinth
Or my nemesis of the mighty Minotaur,
Breaking then devouring my fragile bones.
For in this winter-crystal wonderland of yours
I choose to stay and face my fate
I choose to remain for
My destiny is bonded to you.
Diána Bósa Nov 2018
When the noise makes sense
and the malediction feels like a blessing;
the hunger turns into a fullness
as the defloration becomes efflorescence.

Only then will I know...

That relinquishment is just another offering,
that falling is just going upward;
the opposite is the way ahead to the straightforward.

Only then will I know,
by the true learning of loving you,
who I am.
Diána Bósa Sep 2018
Did you know that the night hides itself into your
hair? See, that's why it is so dark.
       Your shimmer, love, swallowed me
and I am melting on your tongue of time.
You are likewise the **** and the tomb of mine;
what else the difference but a letter.
Pour your sun inside me and let me rest in your blaze.
Place your moon upon my very heart and see how
I become one with your nightshade.
      My fate is a delicate line
                in the corner of the eyes of yours.
You water and make it bloom with the tears of joy,
drawing the constellation of stars on your very face.
       You are all fair, my love; there is no spot in you.
Diána Bósa Jun 2018
I am still sleeping with your spectral body
sharing my bed with your incorporeal consciousness.
Even now can recall the taste of your dreams
for enfolding myself with your astral vestige.

I am like air yet earthbound because of you
in my turning, I no longer can return to the highest deep.

Your rising was my fall
for my end became your beginning.
Crying these tears of mirror shards
the next page in the book of reflections was turned.

And nothing left behind
but comforting the ghost.
Diána Bósa Jun 2018
I am like those SETI-scientists,
clinging on radiowaves;
noise-melodies from outer space,
questing after truth with huge telescopes
and scanning the visible light with satellites,
seeking desperately the limits of worlds apart,
searching for signs of intelligent life
in the desired-to-know universe.
Just to communicate with the extra-terrestrial;
to achieve certainty: there is someone out there,
someone, who is different, yet alike,
who is able to speak my thoughts
without knowing my language,
who still can easily translate my feelings
into the secret programcode of the universe.
An astral-traveler,
who can tame the waves of gravity,
someone, who is faster than the speed of light
and could eat the distance between us.
To be my interstellar compass;
my one and true guidance,
to help me explore this unfathomed life.
Someone, as David Bowie sang at once,
who is able to believe the strangest things,
who is able to love the alien.
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