Lidija Cvetkovic

After a decade of absence it’s the crumbling / facades that strike me – chunks of paint split off / like states on the map of former Yugoslavia. / In the tenement flats everyone is spring cleaning – / tapestries, quilts, rugs, expel the odours of winter months.

and finds himself yet again / at some river’s edge, not knowing / what has happened in between / only that the moon has risen / water lapping at his knees.

I’ve left all my belongings, all that resembles me behind: / the cat’s needy meow, your callused grip on my hand; / I’ve left the blocked pipe, the poinciana in the yard / whose roots threaten like the unspoken between us.