Lift
Saša Milivojev - LIFT
On the first floor
Whiteness
A faded memory
A saddening distance
No one is around
I shut the iron door
I pushed number two
Afraid of unease and memories
Screaming
I was five
On the third floor
I saw
A multitude of children moving
The swallows’ first flight
And me falling down
From the flock
Into black mud
Yet the heart of jade
Is on the fourth floor
I spoke to the flock
Through my poems
My first colours and tones
A poet’s fate
The cable snapped
I fell into the basement
Condemned to wander forever
Through its labyrinths
Saša Milivojev
visit: www.sasamilivojev.com
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