Επιμέλεια: Εύα Πετροπούλου Λιανού
From childhood, I had been riding in a single boat. Two oars carved a path through rough seas. Then the boat was damaged, and I returned to shore. A boy from the firefly village told me that a postcard had arrived—from a woman.
How she knew where I was remains a mystery to this day. After a few phone calls, she came to that remote village. She repaired the damaged part of the boat with trendy hardware.
The time we spent repairing the boat at dawn passed in the blink of an eye. She taught me about trends. And the fleeting nature of those trends was later proven. Perhaps she, too, was searching for her own path.
I came to realize that my path wasn’t somewhere out there, but rather this life of mine—a life I couldn’t control. I’m writing this poem to tell her that. But at the time, we were so caught up in each other that we couldn’t see anything else.
We faced each other, feeling as though we had come closer to ourselves. As the day came to an end and the boat grew dark, we slowly aligned the flickering of our souls with each other’s skin and hair. Since we were not going anywhere, the boat was filled with a rich silence from within.
