Sviatoslav Zhabotynskyi

on the path to the blue book

on the path

to the blue book

fallen poplars rise

say to each other

\"brother\" and \"sister\"

 

owls so close

one to the other

so you can hear

their hearts whisper

 

the stars are so close

that the placenta of God is visible

 

death wants to walk

on the path

to the blue book

but you slit her throat

with names of your children