fragments(the end)

standing over the ledge…
the abyss hangs from the edge,
in its last attempt
to bring the end to the end.
the moon of tonight
will wrap my skin
tight in its light
we dance….

©3/31/2012 by Nina K Orlovskaya

letters(tell me, you love me)

tell me, you love me,
stop the rain in midair,
let the drops absorb time,
let it be still and stunned.
open my heart just for a moment
and the rainbow will fall,
spilling the blue over the grass
and dress the flowers in eternal red.
the birds will pick the rest of the strings
and make a nest for their purple eggs
until they hatched, until the yellow song
will fly away over the blue landscape,
until it will lose a feather.
it will land on my face,
a soft memory of a cloud, sky, sunlight…
the touch of the gentle breeze on my lips,
like a kiss…
invisible…

©3/29/2012 by Nina K Orlovskaya

letters(cold breath.)

my eyes have forgotten their existence.
my heart refused to sync with the rhythm
of my breath. the shadows dwell in the house of light,
their invisible hands slide alongside the invisible walls.
a whisper imprisons words and erases sounds.
the moon guards the door in silence. the silver sword cuts time
in halves, in quarters, in fractions, in slivers…
I smell your presence from the blade,
the scent of a freshly cut lemon.
and mine is the remnants of burned wood.
the last memory of the apple tree was the orchard.
a blissful blossom was choked by the cold hands of death.
it was an arctic front, an unexpected breath… .

© 3/28/2012 by Nina K Orlovskaya

fragments(memories)

it all started with the wind,
lost in a dark house, in the night,
rattling through the dendrites, disturbing
the shadows of forgotten memories.

some are eatable and nutritious,
my mother breaks freshly baked bread and dips it in warm milk,
it was nauseating back then,
but the memory smells like my mother’s hands.
I breathe it in and absorb it all to the last molecule.

the other memories are poisonous:
still blue, still pulsating, still quivering
like freshly beheaded snakes.
those I wouldn’t touch, I would let them die in agony
or live unknown and beheaded.

there are past warnings, rotten apples,
partially devoured by the worms of time,
partially alive, broken into fragments
like an ancient scroll.
I must reconstruct its visibility
word by word, letter by letter.
I must remember my father's voice,
warning me not to jump from the white, freshly painted fence.
but I did anyway.
when the uneven teeth of the ashy bone chewed through my skin,
I collapsed, stricken by the ugliness, rather than pain.

now, pinned down by the elements, I don’t attempt jumps,
I slide my body slowly and gently to the ground,
just to regret my decisions later… .

©3/26/2012 by Nina K Orlovskaya

fragments(all in one and nothing.)

I smell the rain, rolling off of her feather.
the splash of my hand on the waters
interrupted her concentration,
a mouse runs to safety, underground.
hide, little one, hide…
I may make it too…

dark
bottom
whispers
soft
delirium
over
my toes,
while
her eyes
hold
mine
above
the waters.

I’m almost there, at the shores.

she will fly away with the mouse in her claws,
…laughing,
when I will start my swim back.

©3/24/2012 by Nina K Orlovskaya

fragments (I feel nothing)

when I feel nothing
and ready to die,
time stays away from me,
in the distance and observes
as stilness pours Hell
in to the bottomless minutes of my eyes.

I say “Good bye” to you.

life is a ticking time bomb,
ready to explode, unannounced,
like the heart of a red star.
but not today,
today I feel nothing.

death embraces me with blind love,
with her breath – white frost
in my every follicle.

when I merge with her unconditionally,
I feel nothing…
I start aching…
when I see her walking away.

©3/20/2012 by Nina K Orlovskaya

letters(in my dream)

the skin of my dreams
bleached by the silver of the bleeding moon,
caught in the nets of a pine tree.

longing, thick and salty, slides drop by drop,
wraps around my vocal cords, when I whisper your name.

the murmur of the ocean, silences me, drowned my thoughts
in thousands of voices, in the mouthful of pebbles.

hours deepen beyond the fog of midnight
as you, my desire, resonate in my fingertips,
like a breath of spring
in the heart of a migrating bird.

©3/20/2012 by Nina K Orlovskaya

fragments(spring is early)

and there was silence…
two swans, white candles, glimmered
over the placid mirror of the lake. the wind
washed my face with the cool fragrance
of a freshly cut lemon, as I watched the grass grow,
the birds hatched from the eggs, as the fragments
of silence were falling through the intervals
of the birds songs….
spring is early this year.

© 2012 by Nina K Orlovskaya

fragments(words)

my words, you inhale them in strips,
when your breath tears the wind apart,
and pull it down, along your breastbone
where the most terrifying depth swallows
the darkness in slow rhythm…,
sometimes in gulps,
when chocking on those words…

©2012 by Nina K Orlovskaya

letters (I wish)

I am the desire of a local fish

to swim with the elusive salmon upstream

to the place of his birth…  place of his death.

I wish to feel the flow against the silver of my scales,

to know and lose them like minute shadows,

like unhatched dreams…

to have my skin white and soft like the whisper

of calm oceanic waves at the shores…  

I want to walk beyond my shadow, backward in time,

where the wind blows in all directions,

the birds fly low, wings to the grass,

where pines are blue, soaked in the sticky breath

of a new day… .

the pleasures vanish slow, linger over all memories

like a lost moon’s glitter  over the waters… .

©  2012 by Nina K Orlovskaya

fragments(until you’re gone)

when I listen to the vanishing resonance

of your voice, mixed with my blood,

still flowing, still vibrating, still alive,

you say no more…

when my eyes go blind

and I am lost in darkness,

travel with granules of shifting sand

across the roof of my heaven,

let the silence be my guide….

when my nights are long and the days

are identical twins, the rolling fog

is only one item on the menu,

I must feed on it until I vomit,

 until the winter solstice,

until you’re gone…

©  2012 by Nina K Orlovskaya

fragments(lost days)

 the last blizzard of the season,

snowfall of frozen words,

icicles of lost days,

memories when looked at,

when touched – disappear

in the transparency of a water drop

trembling on my eyelids…

the wind invades my nights

with broken twigs and pine cones,

falling upon the white noise

of my weatherless mind.

 ©  2012 by Nina K Orlovskaya

fragments(those days)

there are the days

when I must unbraid

the strands of  rain

and free the birds trapped in the rainbow…

…deceived, enchanted, dissolved…

there are the days when the ink dries out

and the wind blows away all the pages.

I cut my fingertips and write

on the bark of the tree, on the street.

the last verse I master over the white  of the clouds.

…the rain falls in stranded beads…

there are days when the air soaked

with a delirious mist of broken things,

butterflies drink the tears off the flowers,

the bars of the cage rust and turn to dust,

the birds break free…

…lost, crippled, helpless, hopeful…

 ©  2012 by Nina K Orlovskaya

fragments(insomnia)

there is that fucking owl

again. my sleep is pinned

against the wall,

above my head.

she sings her song,

she plasters stories

over

the yawning mouth

of my window.

I won’t write, I won’t talk.

I don’t want milk and cookies.

I want to dive in the river

of dark forgetfulness…

I peel my night,

hour after hour,

until the white bones

of the dawn

outline the limits

of my nerves stretchability.

the owl, my friend,

is silenced....

the sounds of life

bleed 

in the white of a day…. 

 ©  2012 by Nina K Orlovskaya

fragments(sands of my insanity)

 I must be crazy,

thinking,

I am in love.

one more time..

I  have arrived

in the land of ‘Nowhere’,

…again.

a long awaited rest

at the shores…

an isolated island,

more like abandoned. 

a land imagined.

from the top of a hill I can see

it is surrounded by the sea.

it will all go underwater,

when the moon swells

to its fullest.

but for now,

I’ll play in the sands

of my insanity.

© 2012 by Nina K Orlovskaya

fragments(transformation.)

the long night, deliriously

tight, wraps comfort

over my eyes… .

a violin, broken strings,

silenced in the cocoon.

…rest, death, resurrection… .

a fiddler counts the notes

in the raindrops, counts the time in the rainbows,

humming a song over

the milky mist of transformation… .

I count the salty sand

on the bottom of the ocean.

the lost strings ring

in the waters.

I swim… .

©  2012 by Nina K Orlovskaya

letters (i am silent)

my life is fiction,

a dream, I can’t wake up from.

my fictional heart hurts when broken,

and heals without scars.

my blood salty and hot when spilled.

…disappears…

a vague memory of you

coming and going away,

in waves. sometimes

I hear your voice…

I say “I love you” and words lost

before they touch you,  disappear in echo.

dissolve into letters, drown

in my solar plexus.

a thought dies at conception in the webs of my mind.

a dog bites his tail reassuring  its belonging.

he moves in circles, possessed

by desire to cross the line

of his fiction into reality.

I try to open my lips,

let the letters flow, mold  the words,

“I love you”.

I remain silent.

©  2012 by Nina K Orlovskaya

fragments(whisper)

the color of my day

is the blue color

of a whisper

that woke me up

before the sunrise,

before

the silver breath of the moon

got enchanted,

trapped

in the transparent drops of dew,

trembling

on the green lashes

of a newborn morning.

©  2012 by Nina K Orlovskaya