Maybe I ll Buy a Red Dress

I have to buy a red dress.
I’m far too young to settle down,
yet my soul is unaccustomed to the noise
of the roaring anthems of success—
a breakdown echoing through this town.
So why should I buy a red dress,
become a full note in symphonies
and in the hymns of progress?

Protecting the sounds of silence
and the subtle frequencies of connection,
my soul is not used to the noise—

the roseate mist rising at the golden edge of dawn,
shifting into laughter and delight — enjoy,
a late afternoon for a tired faun,
a freezing night for my little boy.

Protecting the sounds of silence
and the frequencies of connection,
I honor all true traditions—

to be:
my final and truest position.

So I am ready to complete my wardrobe,
to mirror your need to be loud
upon the red carpet—
the simple joy of shopping at the market,
red, gold, white—an overwhelming frame—

to merge seamlessly with the illusion,
with your illusion,
in this game.

Manicured claws,
eyes rimmed with darkness—
I will reconquer my Kemet.
The unified universe forever breathes with living hope;
we have always met.

Do not resist.
My new land knows no slaves.
Those who once tasted poison
no longer fear death,
no longer carve their graves,
no longer die for others.

You ask what I feel?
Death.
But the world of love is no utopia;
my universe is real.

You asked what I feel:
not a dream—
I am real.




/из цикла "В этот поезд я не вступаю"/