Tag Archives: five self portraits

five self portraits (5)

25 Dec



yuriy tarnawsky



To Jurij Solovij

5. man in the dark

The body heat delineated the contours of his face as phosphorus. The lines were broad like bandages. A toothache and a few galaxies were tied to one of his cheeks like a pillow. It was amazing how huge he was. Sill he continued thinking of himself as a little boy. Not too far off he could hear the chest of drawers breathe as a fat asthmatic man. One of his arms had been pushed too close to his thigh. The edge of the bone had dug itself painfully into his flesh. He’d been in the darkness for so long it would have bled on being separated.


from the volume photographs are like flowers


five self portraits (4)

18 Dec



yuriy tarnawsky



To Jurij Solovij

4. shevchenko

The man stood with the blank side of the page turned to the world. There was something pathetic in the way his hand had tried to form the letters. The blue ink looked sad as a pair of eyes. Usually gentle, the soul can be vicious at times, using eyelashes as claws. The tears were the color of mauve flesh.


from the volume photographs are like flowers


five self portraits (2)

4 Dec

yuriy tarnawsky



To Jurij Solovij

2. rainbow bars

The earth rose up like a pair of cops and led the man away behind the soft fuzzy bars into which the rainbow had been cut up. The cell was his flesh as a cell can be dark. His eyes looked out onto the world with the embarrassing wisdom that comes with pain.


from the volume photographs are like flowers


five self portraits (1)

27 Nov

yuriy tarnawsky



To Jurij Solovij

1. sea

The paper waited until all the green had arrived. A triangular mound rose up in the spot on the surface where the wave had passed. The white foam had the pattern of female pubic hair. It formed a line down the middle, top to bottom. Fragments of faces floated on all levels: a nose frail as a white butterfly, a pair of lips wearing a long silk smile, a cool porcelain forehead, a fragment of a soul looking like a blue eye. Without a woman! I’ve been cursed with a talent to become reborn again and again.


from the volume photographs are like flowers


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