The Second Person
A kind of floating, as I stand.
Blood-drenched agony,
In front of you, as I am reborn.
First, my habits fall away,
And eventually my personality
Shatters into infinite pieces.
A deathly reflex, as
You drift past me.
History.
For A Young Man Who Took His Life
For who was chased by a ghost
in the dark extensions of his life
his joys, his commitments in a flash
turned into pretenses for his ardor.
The beautiful books, his mind a starting
point, some moments violent lover
then his face turned mysterious
nothing next to him would match
a strange man who stayed
around us with a distorted face
he wouldn’t accept our suspicion
that something horrible was coming to him
he was strangely beautiful like those
who Death had already marked
he gave himself to every danger
as if someone had already claimed him.
They found him with a single
mark on his temple, he was
a total victory like the light
that sheds around it darkness.
He was simple and serene
a smiling reborn face
as if he had become a thank you
logos on the cross hairs of evil.
Eyelids Tightly Shut
Her hungry lips, if you feel
deleting your days
her spine if you sense
squirming at your demise
warrior, remember to keep
your eyelids shut tight
her thighs if you feel
entwined around your waist
and her soft-spoken words
sweet against your tympanums
fingers and nails
if you feel writing on your skin
warrior, remember to keep
your eyelids shut tight
the glance of the Medusa
demands your death
Manolis Aligizakis 