Tag Archives: Irina Moga

Talaria I Then he fitted me with talaria, :: Mercury’s sandals, – straps made of iron and copper, rust dispersing quietly over wings. Wings made from fragments of small birds – their heads, bones, feathers, severed aimlessly :: faint morning whistling and songs, ruptured, trickling, amid drops of blood, over my ankles. As I moved.Continue reading “Talaria. A Poem by Irina Moga”