Untrust the Cure

 

when all the olive trees
died and fatalism
shouldered prayers
country by country became
a messy spill down
century-marked
tunnels
distances washed off
the moon,
uncurled the leaves and teeth
we lived in nights of erased blood
arriving flat
every face inaccessible
sealed blue
do you believe me that
I found you on the outset
of a nightmare
in an airportless world?


Ana Prundaru lives in Zurich, where she works as a translator and writer. Recent work appears in Hot Metal Bridge, Journal of Compressed Creative Arts, Gargoyle, Diagram and Hermeneutic Chaos. Her latest chapbook is Unstable Tales (Dancing Girl Press, 2016).