Ania Kite

Warsaw, Poland

Poet. Writer. Dreamer. Worshipper. Traveler.

MIKVAH

I enter the thick silk of water

slowly covering the top of my head.

This is me...

Thinking about You.

Erode the rock of my unevenness,

file down not me, split the form,

wear away to the quick.

Take away what I should and shouldn’t,

let me start with a first breath.

I emerge wiping my salty eyes,

warm with newbornness,

wrapped in the coconut grease

and I sing my thanksgiving.

Since the dawn

champagne of new day joy

is bubbling within me.

So that I cannot rest a while

as I’m running towards destiny.

FALLEN ANGEL

Catch me an angel.

I’ll tame it like a pet.

I’ll treat it

As if it’s mine to have exclusively.

I’ll tell stories to it

About making flowers honey with laughter

About extracting bitterness from the bottom of the sea

About not soaring too high

At least not yet.

I’ll submit it to training

Teach it duplicitous tricks

Viciously clip its wings

Until I notice it’s ready to fall.

I’ll release it and follow it

Without looking back

But I will return Some day.

If YOU will be

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Literary following rather my dreams than logic I moved form Caribbean to Poland. Among many things that happened, surprisingly I found myself writing stories for children ...

  • Work
    • Ritz Carlton