A poem by Bora, one of my most precious friends. It is called “Missing”, after an artwork of Tamara Kvesitadze (2011), below:
can illuminated thin screens under the blankets
carry the warmth over the distances?
when the corpses who once sharing warmth
are lying under the cold soil
while the furnitures we carried together
are staying still in the same exact points
and sending zombie memories back cruelly
while the bodies are rotting no faster
than my soul is
when every vital breath is
rooted in the past
from your weak existence.