by Neda Nezhdana, 1996

We belong in the darkness
not in clothes
We have killed the seed of sleep
becoming celestial particles
Our eyes lost color long ago
turning into mirrors
but now our skin can see
Your hands are dolphins
caught in the net of my hair
that still remember
what it's like to breathe
I am water,
a stream or maybe a river,
running through your fingers, escaping
So empty that
all that's left of me are ears
soaking in your voice
We are all we need
The sky above
The sky below
We are in the small heart
of the Great Bell.

translated from the Ukrainian by Virlana Tkacz and Wanda Phipps

nezh3.doc 10/7/98

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