Popi Aroniada, Without limits

…in search
for an intellectual clarity
I learned upon
a glass sphere
under the light
of a pale sculpted “aplica”
my sky appeared
my stars thrown
on the ground
I cry
For the stolen beauty
the moment when lava
pores out in the sea
burning the extremites
of my limits
free now
with no limits
I am inclined to orgies
with fathom steps
I run far away
from the crazy “piranhas “
of the living ghosts
I step on the flesh rags
of self –delusion
I stretch my hand
out of the white surfaces
of closed eyelids
until a whole
swarm of bees
is caught
at the finger tips …

*Translation from Greek: Katerina Anghelaki Rook

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