I take a breath straight from the sea

Aleksandra Komsta / pierdvlka
13rd October 2022

I take a breath straight from the sea
I stretch my back and wait for the air to become cold
I live in glass, sand, wood, and donated rings
in boxes, displayed for next to nothing in second-hand stores
everything that the human hand can hold is my home

the same song, played from a cell phone
I climb the stairs, take off my pants and every piece of clothing
not one by one, but efficiently
I walk through the hallway, trying to decide what to do with my body
whether to let it fall asleep in a shell of salt, or rinse it with fresh water
what brought me to the door of the apartment and beyond, brought me all the way to the point where we are now

I open the window, and the cold air is still absent
it's nothing, I'll wait as long as it takes
I take the comforter cover from the bed and throw it over the rough cushions of the couch, which no longer
resemble themselves from a few months ago
this house is like a sailing ship that let me escape at the last moment
every strange element, the edge of the carpet, the silent clock that I don't know when it stopped
a television set like the one my grandmother had
every object like a participant in a rescue expedition, a voyage to help

I think if maybe it rains tomorrow
I will get up as early as possible and write
write, write and write and nothing more
curl up as if following a thread, check if I still remember something from my previous lives.