And the lover makes it hard to see the light. The morning sun bleaches the room, turns the lover into a saint, and tastes like a provocation.Īmbassadors are floated, the Danes wink your way, debates on education fill the forecast, and nobody wears sunglasses in bed although the light makes it hard to see the lover. So you focus on her hair, on the tangles somehow softer than her perfect skin. Batranete, haine grele because cotton is heavier than polyester, and now the grandchildren know more about technology and utopia than the gods.Īmbassadors are floated, the Danes wink your way, debates on education fill the forecast, and nobody wears sunglasses in bed although the light makes it hard to see the lover. Sunlight seeps through a screened window, the shadows motion in sign language. Romanian diplomatic goals are tossed, like the hair of a girl who wakes next to her lover, and tangled. With every Mocanu arrested, a baba makes the sign of the cross and promises never to do laundry on Sunday again. The soft, warm scent of civil war and scorched flags is today's best import from neighbor, Moldova. Over 500 students have gathered in Cluj to burn things and torch road-blocks to their favorite future.
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