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July 12, 2009 by · No comments

Kristin Dimitrova

Photo: tonythemisfit


Every night I look for a door to your dream.
I will open it and eavesdrop.
Although I have opened many doors
behind each one
I saw a mirror.


Do you remember how once we posed
naked and smiling before the mirror?
You and he swapped wives
and each kissed the other –
dreaming of oneself.


One day I will run through the mirror
as though through an old album.
Maybe I will find
unexpected pictures.
Yet I will miss one thing – the familiar
face before me.


Mirror-people have no memory –
they look into your eyes and say:
I am the one from yesterday.
I am the one from the day before yesterday.
No, I tell them,
I am the one from yesterday
and you don’t even know each other.


Maybe out of boredom
I looked around
saw you,
stretched out my hand.
You stretched your hand,
smiled –
you saw me,
looked around,
maybe out of boredom.


My room has a window
looking outside
and a mirror looking inside.
At the window I meet the daylight.
At night I walk inside the mirror.

Translated into English by Gregory O’Donoghue

Categories: Frontpage · poetry


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