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and so we are



          Black holes ain't so black.          
                                   
—Stephen Hawking                       


1.

and so we are & have


a name


in spite of being once


black holes


cut off from every second


from every town



we are still playing


with the stars


expanding our little thoughts


beyond what


words could ever say


some lips could even spell a rose



2.


first page was burned


& so we go


not going anywhere


I took a picture in the park


it was all blurred


then disappeared in a trace


of smoke


you look at me in wonder


while thousands eyes


so high in time are watching


every move


let me paste your smile


on the wall


& to be you & many more


in this world of falling


leaves



3.


and I would like to reach you—


all of you with just


one sound


a sparkle that would inflame


the woods


so you could hear the pacing


of time         the wolf


the hauling


emptiness





history of something



come secretly come in vain come

like a river a shadow


abundant week & stepping hard

& flowing

over what should have been our


last day—

last & lasting forever I'll find you

a name


come to us from where  we've

departed

so far away there is a shape


a human shape of two entangled

bodies come


from nowhere the ocean

the tide

come


near to separate us a god inventing

your own

death

Stella Vinitchi Radulescu, Ph.D. in French Language & Literature, is the author of several collections of poetry published in the United States, Romania, and France. She writes poetry in English, French, and Romanian and her poems have appeared in Asheville Poetry Review, Pleiades, Louisville Review, Laurel Review, Rhino, Wallace Stevens Journal, and Seneca Review among others, as well as in a variety of literary magazines in France, Belgium, Luxembourg, and Romania. Her last collection of poetry, I scrape the window of nothingness - new & selected poems, was released in 2015 from Orison Books Press. At the present she lives in Chicago.

on being beautiful


Some say thronging cavalry, some say foot soldiers,
others call a fleet the most beautiful of   
lights the dark earth offers,
but I say it's whatever you love best.

                                                                                —Sappho, Fragment 16



so beauty should descend on us


to find the reason for being


beautiful & virgin


in its language          behind


the cloud a piano


blue


would tune its strings


to human view


displacing layers in the eye


& where to go


when you don't see the end


the metaphor that would expand


& overturn empires—


forbidden love on legal ground


I came too close to you


: it hurts


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