A blue room 
Divided in spring and north 
The shadows of your smile, low light, 
The curly braces of the cigarette smoke besieges 
Love is a country without chief 
The wait rains in my bed 
Why did you build walls for me 
if I’m uninhabited? 

If we glued our palms, would the life-lines also stick? 

The city was left 
The life moved on Mars
All the people I could love are gone with you
All the children that you were carrying in your eyes, are gone too
All the sorrowful fruits of which I was crushing my lips in February
The hills made scars, it was drought on the coast and on my ribs
And I have to learn to walk on tiptoe not my bruises to be heard
The skin is not wise

I wonder:
if we glued our palms, would the life-lines also stick?

Publicist and writer Tatiana Ernuteanu was born in Romania. She collaborated with various lifestyle & culture magazine as Editor-in-Chief or as Special Guest. She signs the column Chicstalgia in Forbes Life Magazine, where she writes about the nostalgic & chic delights from bygone eras, the old world aesthetic and about love. Her literary work, mostly poetry and short prose, talks about „amour” and nowadays loneliness. Her poems book Flesh, dreams and sad bones forgotten in Hydra was published in March.

Blog at