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RastislavKneziPoems
the road dissolved into mist and something in my mouth tasted like stone before i saw it storm shouting its arrival somewhere or inside the bones the others grey jackets moving down the mountain along the road as if they belonged to time again i stayed fever skin not fitting right teeth aware of each other something opening (where i was supposed to be closed) stone shelter small kitchen bed to heal i wasn’t sure who that was the small flame trembled in the lamp light touching things without holding as if it could forget them mid-air she was there in the corners in the wood in the breath of the room in the cold of the glacier and in the heat that was not mine a whisper through everything the shelter was overflowing with stories remembering themselves jars on the shelf full with hands with winters lids hard to open floorboards soft knowing footsteps that never left the wall holding names no one says anymore i recognised it all as if i had written it before having a mouth in the taste of cold stone on a tongue that forgot water voices layered everyone at once those who came those who stayed those who turned back too late those who never returned those who never arrived the fever went deeper in quiet like it had been waiting for me to stop being one i lay there then i wasn’t (the body stayed i think) i moved or spread or thinned wrong word for it outside no —through— the mountain wasn’t there it was happening what was there before seeing times folding like wet cloth passing through me more than one at once i drank water cold old like it knew every mouth it did not ask mine i ate grass at the doorstep slow bitter warm and waited for it to refuse me just to feel teeth just to be sure i was still something that ends she was there everything there arranged around no as me held not gently not violently by something that does not begin does not stop • morning light trying to behave like nothing happened the shelter the same the mountain the same i was not now sometimes when i close my eyes the wind comes already knowing where to sit like it never left maybe i am still there and this (whatever this is) is the part that forgot how to stay
0
Mar 28
Mar 28, 2026 at 9:57 PM UTC
durmitor fever night
the road dissolved into mist and something in my mouth tasted like stone before i saw it storm shouting its arrival somewhere or inside the bones the others grey jackets moving down the mountain along the road as if they belonged to time again i stayed fever skin not fitting right teeth aware of each other something opening (where i was supposed to be closed) stone shelter small kitchen bed to heal i wasn’t sure who that was the small flame trembled in the lamp light touching things without holding as if it could forget them mid-air she was there in the corners in the wood in the breath of the room in the cold of the glacier and in the heat that was not mine a whisper through everything the shelter was overflowing with stories remembering themselves jars on the shelf full with hands with winters lids hard to open floorboards soft knowing footsteps that never left the wall holding names no one says anymore i recognised it all as if i had written it before having a mouth in the taste of cold stone on a tongue that forgot water voices layered everyone at once those who came those who stayed those who turned back too late those who never returned those who never arrived the fever went deeper in quiet like it had been waiting for me to stop being one i lay there then i wasn’t (the body stayed i think) i moved or spread or thinned wrong word for it outside no —through— the mountain wasn’t there it was happening what was there before seeing times folding like wet cloth passing through me more than one at once i drank water cold old like it knew every mouth it did not ask mine i ate grass at the doorstep slow bitter warm and waited for it to refuse me just to feel teeth just to be sure i was still something that ends she was there everything there arranged around no as me held not gently not violently by something that does not begin does not stop • morning light trying to behave like nothing happened the shelter the same the mountain the same i was not now sometimes when i close my eyes the wind comes already knowing where to sit like it never left maybe i am still there and this (whatever this is) is the part that forgot how to stay
RastislavKnezi
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RastislavKnezi
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Mar 28
Mar 28, 2026 at 9:57 PM UTC
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