Aleš Kauer

HAIKU LIPS
She begins with her breath, announcing her breath, scream, word,
Perhaps she is choking,
Perhaps her breath is becoming shallow
And in the shallow, her expression is throbbing.

Fragile,
Yet, immensely strong,
Retracing her steps back down to her cradle.
She submerges into a narrow space up to her lashes,
Water embraces her face and distorts her features,
And even deeper,
Into the memory and perceptions of the unborn
person – child
who coordinates her cheek muscles.

Later, she gets hurt, later, it all goes wrong,
She breaks herself away,
The umbilical cord around her throat.
The description is a mirror,
It’s a petrified breath,
It’s a fossilized water,
Which I walk on, bearing my soul.
I pill a ram’s horn from the head,
Attaching it to my crotch,
Facing the puzzle with no solution.
Gangly and clunky,
High jumps, wide-open crotches,
Step combinations.
The young columns of a muscle build
In the haze.
Flemish chiaroscuro in Moravia.
The biggest tragedy of my adolescence –
Hairs under my armpits.

I am kept above water by one degree above zero.
The morning Earl Grey left a map on the tablecloth –
The overhangs, seas, deserts,
The scent of the bergamot oranges and far-away places.
When the words are not enough, I stick my fingers in the mouth,
Experimenting with the possibilities of lyric poetry.
And then the pain follows,
When I bite into the leftover meat.

I leave you like a discus
In the rhythmically phased motion,
Choreographed like a discobolus
Slightly bizarre
And with passion for detail.

Dreams about freedom will never
Be so colourful again.
The light follows wherever you go,
Stitched inside my hem.

(From HAPPYEND, 2020 )