Iulia Oprisan

My willow-cross
Is crawling up
The weeping flesh,
The fragile mind,
The riddled soul.
Is it just madness?
Something more?
Unholy resurection?


I'm a voyeur.
I seek a window in the sky,
Above. I'm hiding in the dark
To watch the gods
With crippled eyes.
Not as an angel, as a beast:
A dear in pain, a wolf enraged -
The old, the sick, the dying.

I am a stalker
And a beggar altogether.
My love is fear,
I pray for violent pleasures.
Feal no remorse,
But, still,
My faith is strong,
So I'll endure my sentence.


I am a slave
To my one nature
And, from this torture cage,
I see you, Moon,
Beautiful Goddess.
Thy virgin breast,
Warmed by an infant Sun,
It Blossoms.
Your holy gaze descends
Upon his laughter.
The beams of playful light
Brighten your temple,
Rock on your womb,
Immaculate and humble,
Caressing your pale face
When shadows crumble.

An astral, solitary couple -
The Mother and her Child
Holding each other,
With loving sight.
A match of gravity,
A cosmic tangle.


Eternal tenderness -
Nor space, nor time.