Speaking In Tongues
Scribbling In Voices 

Larisa Sidyuk

Planning Escape
From Your Childhood Dreams
In Search Of Transformation
10 Days of Hell

Planning Escape

Let me leave to be lost and found
To be re-assembled by
The chemistry of a sound
The trajectory of a sigh.

An ear against the wall.
A leap of a furious heart.
Feet stumbling on shoes in the hall.
A curtain not yet pulled apart.
A suitcase and nothing to pack.
A key turning, clicking, stuck.
A keyhole in pain, bleeding black.
A radio in the truck.
A hoarse-voiced, soft, jazz-like way
Of kissing the past goodbye.
A shamelessly naked day
Exposing its back to the sky.
Uneasiness breaks like a spell.
No treacheries ever again.
A soul can rip off its shell
To soak in the warm summer rain.

From Your Childhood Dreams

In the warmth of a foggy morning,
When street lamps shed their milky light
You will float towards the unknown
Through the pool of a dying night.
On the plank of a butterfly wisper,
Paddling with a smooth sting of an oar,
You'll evoke the non-existent
Breaking through the forbidden door.
Breath of roses and dew sprayed around,
Autumn mist irresistably sweet,
Like a dream, not a move, not a sound
But a rustle of hasty feet.
And a woman, old, pale, with grey hair,
Will appear in phosphorous stream,
So angry and lost in despare...
«You should leave! Close the door!» she will scream.
You will lean on a cold heavy metal.
You will push it with all of your might
Wishing just for a crumpled rose petal
Stained with sobs of a dying night.

In Search of Transformation

         do kisses taste sweet and stale,
         crumbs of a yesterday's cake.
         song is a wolf's lonely wail,
         name is a wispering snake.
         doesn't love last long enough.
         eyes, drooping shapes in the night.
         lost in the blind-man's buff,
         up in the absence of light.
          winding its heart every day
          burst shooting hundreds of springs
          into the sky's disarray,
          luting the order of things.
         may fly away or stay here
         win or I'll lose, what the heck,
         name will still hiss in my ear,
         song will howl, looping my neck.

10 Days Of Hell

Needles and pins
                   under my skin,
Pieces of cloth.

Sugar and salt —
                  nobody's fault,
Touch of a moth.

Aching in sleep,
                   learning to weep
Day after day.

Snowfall seeds,
                   mercury beeds
Are on the way.

Tears and rust,
                   smoke and dust
Blending so well,

Aging so fast.
                   These are the last
10 days of Hell.