Circles

I threw a feather over the balcony: as long as it stays in the air you will be saying your prayers curled like an ear on the pillow.

The sun rises in the west. I want your long legs kicking me longer - still the feather - I want to listen. The boys are out there on their mopeds, crowing, bucking their front wheels.

You says it's too hot. The heat goes wherever the sun goes. "O shining girl as the mountain snow melts"

voices from the CD-player singing in Albanian -

"You melt my flesh, my love you leave me only my bones." Close the door, now, please. It's too hot. The feather's touched the ground. "like a partridge in the grass love you have serpent eyes". The voices eased. You are sleeping.