The Pocket Watch

I met you when the world was a huge resuscitation room
and anxiety and despair connected us to the same oxygen tube
a few books and a gold-plated pocket watch
donated by my maternal grandpa at the end of high school

we were two trembling minute hands synchronized by Eros

we thought the universe was God’s pocket watch
and the sky a vault of suede sewn together
as our twin faces feverishly searched for each other
in the buffeting and swirling torrents of the Carpathian Mountains

we were two trembling minute hands synchronized by Eros

but instead of faces the universe was full of masks
the kisses were smoky holes in their thick fabric
friends were dying all around and thrown in black plastic bags
buried without crowns like martyrs in the first centuries

we were two trembling minute hands synchronized by Eros

abandon any passion and any illusion we were told
but we stubbornly talked to the angels
reciting old prayers and medieval songs to ward off demons
with hot foreheads gripped in gold halos

we were two trembling minute hands synchronized by Eros

I met you when the world was a tower struck by lightning
with abandoned mirrors in which the undead lay down to sleep
but we managed to transmute suffering into love
when we looked at each other God’s watch stopped beating

we were two trembling minute hands synchronized by Eros
Suceava, May 7, 2020