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Maja Sabljak Jul 2015
It's four in the morning, and I'm still in the same place.
In the same position.
In the universe of a thousand light years away from yours.
At the moment I do not feel anything.
That panic that radiated through my every pore
When when you left this afternoon
Merged with the walls of smoke that are slowly drenching
Stripped window glass.
You went forever.
I can not remember where.
My mind was preoccupied with memories of your hair,
The way you eat an orange
And of your eyes of the color of seaweed and the trees that are sunking into the sunset.
Separation went peacefully.
In the manners of black and white films that I can not stand.
You never asked me why.
You left me in silence,
Not even looking back while I watched from the window
How your dress crumpled while you were entering the cab.
Since then, I have no courage to walk through the apartment
Because every corner exudes with you,
Each object is wearing your fingerprint.
I wonder if I'll ever move from this place,
Make that first step without you.
Now officially.
I'm not bitter, I'm not afraid nor angry.
In fact, I feel empty.
Empty like the aquarium, which we stored in the closet
Once you gave our goldfish to your sister.
Maybe I'd feel better if the separation was more dramatic,
With some broken object and with slamming doors.
At least I'd feel something.
Anger, sadness, desire for revenge.
Any feeling that would force me to move on,
To not become a plant and to not stay
Frozen in time and space.
Quiet goodbyes are making you think
Of the things you want to forget forever,
Like your almond scent
And arm movements while you are shaking off cigarette ash.
If that separation was restless
I would do something now, maybe even sleeping.
I would not know the number of sunflowers on your dress
As you entered the cab
And at least I would once again hear your voice
While you would scream, cry
Or laughed at me in the face.
I can not stand quiet goodbyes.
You never asked me why.
Because I'm Taurus in the horoscope.
Maja Sabljak Jun 2015
I started tearing a tissue.
An old tissue in which the cotton is easy tearing apart.
I tore it into stripes,
Twitch it in the small pieces of cloth.
It was a summer afternoon,
I sat slumped on the kitchen floor.
In the distance you could hear the radio.
Last night I cried.
And this morning.
In a dream.
Under my withered eyelids
You appeared
Bringing the blossomed memories.
In immoral attempts
You want me sunken.
Red dust of tissue
And that tingling all over me
In this icy solitude
They take you by your waist
And it's like you're here with me,
With your head laid on the ****** tiles.
Suffering floats through the air
Darkened with the walls of smoke.
I'm touching your death,
Calmed for a long time,
I'm saving your pain
In the interior of your ribs.
I can not tell whether this is really you,
Grubby and rotten.
With my lips I'm touching the red clusters of your brain
Which is slowly turning into roses
Or maybe cyclamen.
You are still present here,
Your beauty has not changed
Although your eyes are empty and cheeks sunken.
I wipe your face remains with a tissue
And I cry.
I killed you,
And put your soul in a jar
Painted in the colors of my heart.
And now we are here
Together reclining in clotted blood
Covered with cotton threads
Of a tissue.
Just another necrophilia poem.
Maja Sabljak Jun 2015
Somewhere, in the sleeping corners of the Universe
You eat my heart, raw
Removing the sticky traces from the lips
With your teeth
And catching stray drops of juice with your tongue.
With red fingers you touch my eyes
You crush them
Like blackberries and absorb them inside of you.
You bite my thighs,
Sprinkling them with cinnamon and melt in your throat.
You swallow me
Gradually, with seeds
Wiping your fingers on my cheeks.
Do you know that?

You have no ******* idea.
Just *******.
Maja Sabljak Jun 2015
My dear,
You don't even know
How much my thoughts are
With you.

It's blue.
  Jun 2015 Maja Sabljak
Daisy C
She doesn't write poetry about me anymore.
I wonder why.
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