Roland Orcsik

I.

It was enough to click (on),
fleshing Orphean gaze lit on,
from the trembling body
spread out light.
In the mine deep
between the thighs
for its undeveloped
shadow
the desire longs after.

II.

It was enough to link on,
the torn gaze lit on.
Its ruins have sunk
into the throat of dreams.
In its depth many splinters
unite for a moment,
the sight shines up:
in front of the dissecting cam
the blind body writhes,
then falls apart, like sentences
in damp darkness
without wake.

III.

It was enough to warmly blink upon
it, lovesaliva ran down
on the pleasure-stricken face
of the fetish-puppet.
Her lips open wide waiting for
the scene’s end, and open on its desire,
dumb in eter-
negativity,
as an inflatable angel
torn from the sky,
like an egg torn from the nest,
a cord from the navel.

IV.

It was enough to switch on,
to darkness the sight stick on,

till it came off,
pulling with it

the blood-suckers
of time sucked out

into the dewy dawning
if incoming oblivion –

V.

It was enough to knock on,
in the eye wide shut

the morning moaned,
its light sprinkled,

as the planets
in the bottomless underground

fart after
the big bang.

VI.

It was enough to toll on,
the video images have frozen,
the slimy dreams became still.
The tolling spiraled down
into the caves of the body,
as rings spiral down inside a tree,
roots stricken to the heart,
into her heart,
into her body,
her Voice.

VII.

It was enough to scream on,
another fissure
cracked over
through the body-bell.
A torn voice,
from the fissure pain broke out,
and all began to fall again,
body, light, scream fell,
childhood collapsed,
time torn to dust,
the whole heap of ruins falling
back to the dark mine,
to the still lap
of the dark screen.

VIII.

It was enough to reverse before the end,
to delay the orgasm,
in her dissipated look
snow drizzled in fat fluffs –
backwards;
in the rewinding frames
the land becomes more and more somber,
but you can hear her yearning
wet from snow,
the whole of her body remembers
the prolonged,
shining whiteness
at the end.

IX.

It was enough to click (off),
loving-light shot
into the dark land.
Her body tolled.
Tear me apart,
tear me apart,
she repeated
near the end.
Her yearning is not lost,
it has been reformulated.

X.

It was enough.