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SO WE SHALL FLY THROUGH SPACE
Radio amateurs on a desert island,
that's what we are, turning the buttons.
Bleeping sounds come out
and orbit the Earth
like a sputnik
or a meteor gone astray
from its flock.
Maybe a thousand years will pass
in this orbiting but what
does it matter
if the people have already left
or the receivers
have been replaced by higher technology?
What remains is
our joy from the bleeping.
What remains is what you
told me last night.
Your words were unforgettable
like bubbles in front of a face
under the water.
Anyway, by now we can
only breathe mouth-to-mouth.
© Kristin Dimitrova
© Kristin Dimitrova, translated from bulgarian
© E-magazine LiterNet, 12.07.2008, № 7 (104)
Kristin Dimitrova. My Life in Squares. Middlesbrough: Smokestack Books, 2010.