Teodora Sukareva

Poetry

PROPHECY

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Poetry

CONSEQUENCES

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Poetry

The Keeper of Solitude

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Poetry

The Waiting Room

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Poetry

Just a little farther,from...

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SCENT

Translated by: Teodora Sukareva

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I longed,
as I cut my hair in half,
and kicked the strands beneath the chair,
to watch a part of me walk away,
leaving only the new, the unknown—
the scent of adventure.
But it is just the opposite—
you cut, you discard, you change what’s useless,
yet the past lingers like a seed,
planted in every future, in every dawn.
And so…
you cannot be someone new,
without all the old within you.

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