I lean over the ferry deck.
The wind snatches two locks of hair
wildly flapping across my face.
The hood with fake fur is twice as thin as a petal.
This ordinary body is swarming with birds and bees,
mother bears with their cubs as well as
coots and some other nondescript creatures.
There is no one on the deck yet it is noisy.
The unshackled tyrants walk about rustling
their oversized sheepskins.
Their beards look thin against the wind –
like an avalanche.
Underneath the deck, beneath the stairs
two are having coffee.
Half of me is still there, an empty cup with the remains
of a cold espresso.
My breath, my gift of speech and movement, mercy,
half of all of it is still there.
One of them took off his coat. There is a hot stain
on his forehead.
I left to see what the reflection on the sea surface
would have to say,
is it enough just to step aside a little bit,
otherwise the foam will eventually smash you against your own
bones.
EN 
MK