DUNJA LUKIC
December 1992
I.
It was in the shadows
of a dark first winter
when the stars were frozen in the night dome
and even with our spinning
we couldn’t shake them from the sky
held our hungry mouths open
waiting for those falling universes to explode on our tongues
expectant
hoping our bellies would be swollen with stars.
II.
With wide seven year old eyes
that same winter
the sky was colorless
it was snowing
I saw stars in white tufts around me
and I held bits of the universe
in
small
frost-bitten
hands
my skin screaming a
victorious
red.
III.
Years later
standing at the bus stop in September
when the wind began to stir up winter blood
I shivered
(as I thought I would)
but you stood unmoved
your white hands
the colour of rain …
Summer still lingered on my skin
its dry cinnamon days already
faded
the winters of a Mediterranean childhood
were never this cold.
December 1992
appears in CAROUSEL 16 — buy it here
