***
a woman with a heart this heavy cannot fly
like a leaf held to asphalt by a rock
like a page from a book disassembled into quotes . . .
a few minutes for meetings, a few snatched words for introductions
her eyes wide open like the door to her parents’ house
where all her childhood memories are kept in an old marshmallow tin
she says, ‘if not him, then no one will get them . . .’
the black butterfly of despair, the sharp smell of ether
who will revive her, return her to her passport photo
who will hold her thin, sobbing shoulders
the air raid siren lifts city birds into the air
but that heaviest thing in her doesn’t allow for flight
Translated by Ali Kinsella and Dzvinia Orlowsky from Halyna Kruk, Галина Крук: Стається і не перестає (A-Ba-Ba-Ha-La-Ma-Ha, 2024), p. 249.
