Maria Macedonska

"If you're going somewhere, don't forget to take tenderness with you. There's bound to be a time when you'll need it." This is what Maria Macedonska advises us - author of the small square book "Gentle people" with stories inspired and dedicated to her beloved ones. And why square? "Because tenderness is like the square," she says. "Each side is equal to the other." Winner of various awards over the years, Maria recently fought for first place at the second Huawei Smartphone Film Festival with her documentary short film "In Search of the Boy Who Singed".

ONE MORE TIME

I love you with the swallows hanged on telegraph poles.

With sloppy elasticated worn stockings,

stretched on your scrawny leg,

and ending just an inch below the crotch,

covered with soft silky feathers.

How it twitches from my breath – dry and sandy mistral.

Gabriela, my dear.

Just you and me on the wires, swayed by mortal wind.

This cradle one eyed

is being swung by my arm.

My hand buried in your hair is blind.

And lame my arm is and has gone.

I love you, hanged yourself on your stockings.

Your heels are scraping the dry soil like nails.

Your heels…

Bone knife hilts.

TIME TO FALL ASLEEP

For a long time, I've been watching her lie on one side,

she lets her blond hair loose on the sheet.

Her sides are ablaze with shame,

because she suspects I'm watching her.

Standing still.

She has casually covered her tiny breasts with her hand

and quietly gazes at the cobweb with the cool spider hanging in it.

She resides in the pink room - the room of roses,

where all the loneliness is tamed.

I'm in the autumn room

and I fall asleep with my hair scattered on the sheets

I fall asleep with my breasts huddled in my hand,

you stare at them through the lock more and more breathlessly

and your eye, narrowed down, becomes a slit of desire.

And a hot drop of sweat on the hip

crawls down to my knee as if crying.