Here is a white space in which the sky meets my face as seen
by birds and their wings untouchable voices move in it like stars

without meaning in vain they are my solitude when the sun breaks
in this room bleeding with light and day now pale grey translucence

there is no way out of my mind through steps along a spine spiraling
into a well I find no trees or whales in this world of shivering oneness

a red space winters unexpected now so red at first opening and closing
two grey wishes at last is this what I knew once my nightmare of falling

and being trapped by lightning on a field and deafening thunder in this
darkness indivisible blackness around a world of cries in ancient

cities countless mortalities hide in these spaces blanks approach us
they move in a hurry from white to black to white auway and back

Rozalie Hirs


  (c) Stephan Vanfleteren