On Absence

When I became we I became

Water. I am liquid in too many places.

See how I babble, how I cannot read or speak,

How nightly I cannot uncork the light

From the windows and lay instead counting the

Stars between me and Slovakia.

I am liquid in too many places. See?

I am ink. I am stamped on Trnava buildings and

Buildings like the Furies.

Look, a leg, a heart, a liver

Float like candles in the Danube.

Bratislava is beautiful with so many

Dawns growing bright inside my belly.

Evening sets over the Tatras

And stars again sleep, sleep below the

Surface of the water.