”One day”

One day

when you won`t clean my words with your foul lips any more

when i`ll be older

when i`ll be teen

and almost unborn

One day i`ll open the door


put the teapot to boil

pour out more infusion than water

and i`ll sit down and write about

your damned humankind

and i`ll swear at your clewed taboos

which indicate

that women smokers are immoral

i`ll spit at your foreheads

and i`ll breath inside a match instead of cigarette smoke

and i`ll have nausea because of the antipathetic taste

and i`ll do feel immoral to me

because during creating something

smoking is an obligatory condition

when you trample the superfluous words in the ash-tray

and in the healthy body of your poem

only healthy words are cropped up

with a hard soul

and they are liked a slender woman

and flexible

and suffocating

like the smoke

One day

when i`ll write down and tear

write down and tear

when i`ll lose my strength

i`ll spit at me that you gave birth to me

go back

go inside your womb

wrapping the navel-string around my neck

and give my word to born

when the world will be more other

One day

having washed my dishes having drunken my tea and having masticated and chipped the last match…


Author`Hasmik Simonian


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