Danijela Trajković
Written and translated by Danijela Trajković

DANIJELA TRAJKOVIĆ holds an MA in English Language and Literature from the Faculty of Philosophy in Kosovska Mitrovica, Serbia. She is a short stories writer, poet, translator, reviewer. Published by literary magazines, newspapers and anthologies worldwide. Her first book „22 Wagons“ was published by Istok Academia, Knjaževac, Serbia, 2018.


summer’s tongue licks
all our attempts
to build a home

we conjure rain
to show us where
foundations are

we pull roots out
collect brown leaves for the cellar
oranges for walls
yellow birds for windows

we are eternal tenants
wait for winter
its fire scarf

and winter is late as the trains in Serbia

our feet are bare
our bodies are cold
two skies

winter is our mother
old woman
slow walk
she has no choice

but to come


I slept
and you rode on the moon
sneaked into my room
and stole your soul


it was night when they abducted me
I didn’t see their faces
they tied my eyes
put on the operating table
separated my soul from my body

all the blood ran out
they said they were going to throw it
in the Red Sea
not to leave any trace

then they buried my soul
on some cemetery

my pale body now attracts many men
I hear from the conversations dogs and birds
who are fed at the cemetery have

sometimes I hear your steps as well
your voice
you pass along an unmarked grave
just say you’re too far away
and continue walking.

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