Hermin Abramovitch - Tutt'Art@


Whatever the gradient

Of my surplus I never

Manage to assuage my doubts

Even a breath is malignant

If clutched too long.

I carry several threads

Each a familiar of sorts

A miracle baited

But never cast for worry

That a violent entry

Might dislodge a link

Essential to my captivity.


I expect that the masks

Most worn are as real

As the faces beneath them

Fear being the confessor of all.

I hold up sheets of transparencies

To the heavens and view

The blue as a barrier to reason

What do I want?

And why can’t I ask for it?


Why do wishes seem to me

Guns without safety?

Cocked like a sneeze

I cover my mouth

Again and again afraid

Of the words that might

Confront invitation


Aim determines everything

And yet so little adheres

To our monochrome forecasts

Love never does and life

Is happier for astonishment.


I have been feeling emotionally blocked and tentative to write