Boat Sailz Split, Croatia

Paper boat, 

you sayz.

To hold the weight of waterz
airz and unknownz sparkly thingz,
like canz, ringz, birdz and grandpa'z gun.

Me suitcase is ready wizz
a piece of a dense cloud 
hair spray and night-iz 
and some pair of daily daggers too. 
for in case of hunting. fishez. them look sou less

Problem iz, we're too heavy for-
you catchez me mouth and sayz it must be you wrist watch
and us take it out. 
we goez up North wizz a paper 
boat bigger an' bigger forests made it.

the clutch of me hand is of one fruitz, dark oily ink suburb of rose nettly
plum me savez for dis big stomach 
wizz a little mouth inside. we knowz not how long 'coz--
we only listenz to whalez in dark or knowz its kickz in morningz,
but time stayz on shorez. 

Afrodita Nikolova

Home country: Macedonia
(temporarily living in England)

afrodita.nicol@gmail.com

Calling It Love

Black Sea, palm tree dreams,
recorded Springsteen’s Badlands,
philosophic gift to a lover
borrowed from your room mate,
when you lived on a street named for lanterns.

Wrapped in your long black coat,
cross the city underground,
through heavy draped doorways,
nuzzle into smoke, and hot grog.
timeless sailors, reluctant to approach,
as if they knew something steel hidden in your pocket.

The last time you were here -
making cigarettes for a lover
borrowed from your room mate.
conversation a blur. Cinema forgotten,
unburdened in a room above the kiosk.
all sense of betrayal excused by adventure…

Next morning, walking home 
dry steel footsteps echo,
as even you found yourself
believing in what you knew was not
and calling it love.

by pd lyons
pdlyonspoet@yahoo.co.uk
ireland