Do the blind dream of blind horses
And of long monochrome, dark on dark, black glows in the unequivocal hell.
Do the blind dream of blind horses
Steep hills, winds and skies,
And nightmares unnamed.
Do the blind dream of blind horses
And longings unseen,
And blind arms like snakes,
And the sorrowful dark scream of the flesh.
Do the blind dream of sighted horses.

*

Author: Pavel Vesselinov
Translation: Gabriel Burns

Are we under cover?
Faces worn like masks
Underneath them, lovers
Friends, if they should ask.

We can veil the light
Of the fire burning,
But could we ever hide
The smoke and heat infernal?

Are we undercover?
Friends, if someone asks
Kept in secret, lovers
Spying their last.

Why do your weaknesses elude me;
my black magnets
keep you at a distance
because
you're facing their
repelling poles

your hair strands are currents,
thoughts;
mind of their own,
tentacles
gesturing hypnosis...
who are they;
what are we,
but extensions,
body parts,
extremities,
intentions,
of a hive mind
unidentified

but I’ll walk these narrow bridges,
shifting as they are,
these catwalks,
hanging ledges,
and breach I will
the curtains of your
ink-spilled masquerade
to taste the sweet and salty
that you’ve saved for me

and you will know
in the contours that hold me,
the right substance
beneath telltale textures
of requited sensation

and we won't fathom the bonds
but touch what they bind us into
smearing the need for questions

Dipped for years in sensory deprivation, my heartstrings had atrophied to the point of numbness. Self-harm was my only tool of getting feelings into my system… My voice was screams confined in vacuum. My smile came up only as burns and blisters blissfully stretching on each side of my surface.
Where am I now? I'm out. Prison break successful. My thoughts were the bars; my self-loathing, my walls; my heart was the lock… Did I carve out the key out of my guts? Was it a re-purposed rib? I can't recall. But I'm out now. And I'm real. I gave myself shape and soul. A second chance.
I have two wings; one black, one white… And I… forgave the past. And my veins carry freedom towards my brain, feeding every synapse. Thank you everyone, who loved me when I was the least deserving. May You be blessed!

... Her eyes charted a triangle on his face. His gaze was the ship following the charts. Lost in the Bermudas? She froze her stare at his mouth. Very slowly, inexorably, and absentmindedly, he was sinking, leaning in… like falling into a maelstrom of trance. Time expanded from a puddle to an ocean. The Earth stopped turning. Her eyes were closing, a hundred times slower than the setting sun. Ever so slightly, almost undetectably, her face moved to meet him, for the smallest distance possible. Like half a step, inviting completion. He stopped right before touch… where proximity was impossibly close, blurring the line. The air between their lips felt like contact; a magnet… giving haptic feedback of tingling sensation. Her eyelids lifted again, as if pulled up by the anchors of eyelashes, tethered to his irises. She was stuck in a moment of anticipation. Her lips twitched open, holding her breath. Her eyes focused, wondering, asking thousands of questions per second… saying nothing… waiting to find out what happens after “to be continued…”. She hated cliffhangers. The cruelty of waiting for the sequel.
     He interrupted that confusion; spoke in low voice:
“Stop. Imagine... there’s an invisible wall, incredibly thin, but also unbreachable. Will you be window shopping Me? This is better than the actual thing. Because all you want is right on that threshold. And you can choose. Right now. You can choose to extend that moment. Hold it for awhile. Keep it longer. Before it manifests and senses consume it. Stay with me on the other side of the window. Be the want, the desire before satisfaction dulls hunger. Be the thirst before the glass is full. Feel the water pour. Hear it spill. Anticipate the cold moisture with the edges of your tongue and the inside of your cheeks. Swallow the sip of saliva that your senses milked from your thoughts. Now… bottoms up”

And all the wars
those eyes of yours
have started,
and all the gore
blown open in the hearts
like grotesque gardens,
by beauty, battle-hardened,
yes, all of this is lost to words;
none ever cross
the lips of worlds
exhaling in the fallout
following the meltdown.

I’m walking around the sun
Witnessing a new dawn that’s
always there and I
Can never reach it
Walking around
Such a distance
It’s hurting to see it just
Exist
Wondering what it is
And me, I’m not even considered a planet anymore
As if my celestial body does not have
A correspondingly celestial mind
I am both present and gone
Merely taking up space
In someone’s classification
Of spacetime
Pluto...Out…

*   *   *

Ходя около Слънцето
Гледам новата зора която винаги е там
И никога не мога да докосна изгрева
Обхождам
Толкова далечен
Боли да виждам съществуването
Като присъствие
Без да знам какво е
А дори не съм смятан за планета вече
Сякаш небесното ми тяло
Не притежава съответстващо небесно съзнание
Едновременно присъствам и ме няма
Само заемам пространство
В нечие определение
За времепространство
Плутон - край...

if ever there was a decent descent,
then I was thus sent to collect the scent
of the passing sand… not to make amends -
alas, too late for that, but hand
the Feeling…

We are living memory
Our words are our saviors
For they will remember
Us

Like fireflies in the dark
I see your tears with closed eyes
You’re the bird in my heart
Who never stops singing
Amongst the dagger ribs

… our bodies in our clothes like holstered guns…
love is when you draw... and shed the holster
… that sweet crunchy click blowing your pupils
the arching trajectory of the safety-off smile

And when I turn to stone someday
You will become Medusa
The very moment that you lay your gaze
On my skin of cold-hard gray

I’ll hang myself from your earlobe; an example to all consciences
That are the high hanging fruit in the wind
Unknowingly melting icebergs worth of salt in the eyes of a fox

I have two hearts now
one for each of your eyes;
one inside my body,
one in yours

twice the joy
twice the pain

I haven’t seen all that much during my years,
let alone done…
but I’ve felt for lifetimes ahead
and you are… truly…
the best of it

Eyes, like coal, leave ashen trails
Unaware of what they stain
Your whites are pushed
Into the frames
I'm soaking into you
So deep
Into another plane
A journey through the layers
Of your fabric
To never wash away

In my head her lips white-hot are melting
Burning red are thoughts my blood is pelting
This is not a dream
This is no fantasy
This is not a whim
The lover and the enemy are wed
And she's the sum of everything
That words have never said

You and I,
The last of our kind,
Let us join
To meet the sunset
And tread together
Into twilight

And if new dawn awakes,
After the darkest of nights,
If morning still awaits,
We could be reborn as rays
Of sunlight

My inner Trump is building walls;
defense
from 'fugee thoughts
and outside influence

The borders are now closed.
Nothing's coming through,
not even you

Can you dig?
Or climb?
Or fly?
Up for coup?

The wraith wrote right
Inside the sight of a sigh



Love dove like a dove
Then flew full of flu



Doubt is the apple
And love is the worm



If you are ready for happiness
You are already lost



I did my worst
So I would know my worst



From a martyr to a victim
A fall marks the distance



Everyone’s addicted to their illness
Because the medicine tastes worse

vanity is makeup-like, an airtight mask
eroding, alas, the skin underneath

What did the glass say to the ice?
"Kiss my bottom"
And the cube replied:
"Fiery spirit, I admire that in a glass"

You were the bird in the propeller
Why would you do this
I’m just a passenger
You are not yours
And I’m not mine
Nobody’s truly their own
What you do to yourself
You do to the others
lonely but never alone

My inner world
had to choose
to **** the dinosaurs
so the humans do their thing

Immediate regrets were brought
by that decision;
it's no consolation,
the excuse of
the necessary evil

scars of lessons past
crawl like cracks
on tomorrow’s skin
you stitch and patch
but
it’s a race you cannot win

My real gender is
Lavender in november
Real love ender
Never the pretender
Role playing ember
Too hot, too cold
Never too average
Even the dreams
Of my ashes are savage

“save the trees”, it says
on the sheets of paper
made out of their death

а може би през зимата дърветата цъфтят, но наобратно
ей така, невидимо
под почвата
дълбоко стиснала клепачите
улегнала във сънища за топлото

и там съвсем наяве
измежду стените на дома им
скрити за очите на света и чуждото
под завивки и завеси
цветовете им се сбъдват

* * *

And maybe trees in winter blossom backwards
Just like that, invisibly
Beneath the soil
That deeply clenches eyelids
Set in dreams of warmth

And there awoken truly
Between their walls of home
Hidden from the world’s foreign eyes
Within the sheets and curtains
Their colors come embodied

You might wanna keep tabs on this one...

[insert number of] days since the ember lungs of my longing
last drew breath
And you are theirs
( … the air…)
And they are yours
( … the lungs…)
And you are mine
And we belong nowhere and
to no one

I want it to rain
slowly intensify
I want to feel every drop
Crashing
Hard
Exploding in tears
Becoming one
Connecting Earth to sky
Dripping like liberated hope
going home from work
Drawing an image of how chains
are a bad metaphor for anything
I want it to rain
and I invent and recreate
a collage of the greatest downpour
in my head I find the space
to soak everything that wants to be soaked
and it rains
the way it was always meant to be
felt
perfect
it rains

Seems there’s nothing there
Is it see-through
Is it like dark matter and dark energy
The forces of invisible entities that bind us

They invade our thoughts covertly
And we never know our feelings’ feelings
For theirs is a different world
Beyond our own

Forces bind energy and matter
To interact with the senses;
And through this process
The ghosts of thoughts take mold

Secondary level of production
Involves post-processing and
The rise of libraries of metadata
And if we are cautious
We could gain access to new layers

New horizons within the body of our thoughts
Lingering dormant
Waiting to be discovered
It's all there
Catalyzing inspiration
Seemingly out of thin air

In my irises my pupils turn
Into blast waves
Are you aware
That this gaze
Was a lit fuze
Severed chains
My latest jewels
Flames crave
The intake
Volatile fuel
Oxygen
****** in
Catalyst lips

Our children are flames
We are embers weeping sparks
Our scriptures remain
On ash-imprinted hearts

The first of March,
The day where red and white entangle
In the tradition of Bulgaria
Into a token summoning good health,
And luck, and non-material wealth
To the body and the spirit of the wearer
Be well, my friends, and fellow feathers,
Around the world, from near and far,
May fortune bring you well

She's the master, I’m the piece,
On the game board,
Teasing victories
But the lords are sometimes
Slaves to these
Strategies to winning
And I’d love to have just
An attractive game to watch
No care about losing
As long as I'm into it
As I intuit choosing
Inexplicably
The right moves
That move the hearts
All around

are you embracing mountains within me, each swallowed three suns upon sunset
a flock of longing birds up high, leaves a grain of spring to eyes
seeing again, that white painting, our hands in tenderness, sketch out a swan
and in the shadow of the beak, a broken off scream of solitude, lies hidden

* *

It is with great honor and excitement that I introduce to you, this gem of an author from Bulgaria, my native country… Without further ado, I present you * tearfly * and her wonderful work, translated to you with care reserved for my highest standards...

...I’m falling
You’re open
   {I) Dive in
Openness
   Like a stone
Like a river
   Ripples and sinking
Banks and flowing
   Like a stone in the river
Falling into you
   I dive deeper
To caress the bottom
   With every move
Of the current
   Forever…

I am the pain of my sins
burning
behind the sunniest smiles

I stopped time
on the brink of your lips

{and mine kissed eternity)

* *

404

Autumn leaves
But not her leaves
Where she lies
Perennial

Beneath the ribs
She roots her trees
Deeper than the skies
And deeper yet
And deeper still
Than the living chains
Of freedom

Perched upon the windowsill
Her eyes tow wings
Whose whispers sing
The name of her reverie

You’re a spark and I’m a flame
And our son
Is Arson

I fell in Fall
And I was lifted, airborne
In winter
To find the warmth of home 
Within my chest,
Lit by her touch of gold
And once you fall for Fall
It feels like flying
In her embrace of amber

*

Паднах в есента
и бях издигнат, полетял
във зимата
за да намеря топлина на дом
във моите гърди,
запалена от нейното докосване от злато.
А щом по есента си паднеш
чувстваш че летиш
в прегръдката на кехлибара ѝ.

*

Fall на английски е падане… но също е и синоним за есента…
А есента е влюбване защото да се влюбиш е falling in love - буквално падане и есенуване във любовта…

Of all the natural elements, the most savage one has always been, the element of surprise...

clutching the handle of a
long long long knife
unwavering hands
pull away
I’m in daze
not sure of the direction of the blade

you’re giving me more time to recuperate
elongating anguish
as you linger on the trigger-jaws;
give me that point-blank love
bathing teeth in baptism
our blood is fire
our blood is one
can it be that you find
we’ve snapped at each other
simultaneously

this time we re-create the universe together
shifting seamlessly from animal to human form
and we’re the voice, the hand, the couple,
the first, the last, the apple

This time we bite together

<Translation>

Произход (на Искрите)

даваш ми повече време да се възстановя
удължава се мъчението
витаеш около спусъка на челюстите;
дай ми от упор любов
да окъпе зъби в кръщение
кръвта Ни е огън
кръвта Ни е едно
възможно е да откриеш
че сме се впили един в друг
в същия момент

този път Ние ще сътворим вселената наново
плавно ще се претворяваме от звяр в човек
Ние сме гласът, ръката, двойката,
първите, последните, ябълката

този път отхапваме заедно

Words need watering
The garden silently suffering
I hear the cries
**** us
Again
With the kindness of silence
A coup de grace
And not with the slow agony
Of polite distancing
Of lukewarm abstract approval

I reject the comfort of the safe bet
I’ll have
No more stifling of the fire within
I’m dancing on a razor edge
until it bleeds
and then some

The wind excites the fields
The sun is jealous
The gluten’s changing
Stirring gelous
Microscopically

Is this singing now?
The Mexican wave…
No rehearsals ever
No choreography
Just spontaneous
Shift in geography

Not of their locale
Caught in observation
The bridges that extend from the outside to eyes
to thought
Have found the end of drought
And the rebirth of purpose
In the gentle touch of river
Unexpectedly
Her fingers sliding underneath the arks
To interlock with the supports
To join what’s brought apart
Till wholeness is restored

The wind is You…
The river, too...
And only You can be the Sun as well…
I am everywhere at the same time
Unbound from earthly shell

* * *

Възбудени полета

Вятърът вълнува полето
Слънцето ревнува
Променя се глутенът
Разбърква се във гел
Микроскопично

Това пеене ли е сега?
Мексиканската вълна
Без никаква репетиция
Без хореография
Просто спонтанна
Промяна в географията

Извън тази локалност
Хванат в наблюдение
Мостовете, свързващи външното с очите
С мисълта
Намерили края на сушата
И прераждането на смисъла
В нежното докосване на реката
Неочаквано
Пръстите й плъзнали под арките
За да се сплетат с подпорите
И да обединят разделеното
До възвръщането на целостта

Вятърът си Ти
И реката Си,
И само Ти можеш да бъдеш и Слънцето
А аз съм навсякъде едновременно
Освободен от земната си черупка

My eyes turn bulimic
Having devoured the world
They keep nothing
Except for the cure that is You