An experiment with frog hearts.

Lubomír Tomik

 Tribute to His forked tongue,
 vanilla smoothies,
 full of poison, satin and velvet,
You ran your finger over the first verse

 only two coins
 for the potion of immortality
 only two coins
 for the tribute of Her forked tongue
 You moved your index finger,

 sliding on
 individual words

 "I was looking for Miss Lake
 in bars after midnight,
 in a raincoat with a pointed hat staggering with a lantern on the tide line
 under the same half of the moon,
 in the folds of your veil
 in the ghostly streets of the Portuguese tavern,
 in the eyes of the Sandwich peasants,
 in the deflection of the planets,
 in the reflections of the bows of tea clippers breaking through curtains of perfume,
 eyes fixed on the west,
 naked skin strewn with splinters of the oceans,"

 I finally found her:
 Dressed in Orion's belt,
 she took me by the arm and smiled gracefully.

 She wandered in a perfect labyrinth,
 Miss Lake.

 You.