White box bridal city: bites and pinches

*It can be read from the beginning to the end or backwards (although there isn’t a backward way of reading it, both path readings are different, but one is not more important than the other).

            I

Winnipeg:

two rivers dreaming,

a river of blood guzzling stones.

            II

Winnipeg,

white box city,

it feels like a dream and it does not stop.

            III

Winnipeg,

this white long box city:

two shadows by the streetlight at night,

one sideways shadow in the afternoon,

any shadows in the dawn.

            IV a

Winnipeg,

white toy city:

a river disappearing into the other,

a glass that explodes in your hand

and doesn’t cut your skin enough to make you bleed,

            IV b

Winnipeg,

white toy city:

a river devouring another,

snowflakes penetrating the garbage.

            Between IVb and V

The most difficult task, and the easiest,
is to stay alive and to keep breathing
in this city, everywhere.
It does not matter where, but why and how.

            V

Winnipeg,

white bridal city:

a river that flows into the course of another river,

calmly.

            VI

Winnipeg,

white bridal city:

at the exact point where the two rivers meet,

the bridal gown becomes the snow

that covers their freezing.

            VII

Winnipeg,

white box bridal toy city.

Beyond the edge of this city

everything is full of nothing.

Plenitude is made of small pieces of vacuity.

             VIII

Winnipeg,

white box bridal toy city,

one last time.

The sky that runs from all the edges

and twinkles

and storms and shut up sometimes.

          LAST

I wish 

my self

was still

melting in the snow,

melting in your mouth,

stopping the flow of the sky.