If It Bothers You

If my desire to only watch you at night and feel 

your presence bothers you while I'm covering my 

empty bed with the full melody of the moon;

If it bothers you that I feel your hot pulse 

when you comfort yourself

with the bitterness of the past day;

If it bothers you that I want that little demonic 

thing in your eyes, which makes me give up 

from all the gods in me and wash myself 

in that fire of yours with passion;

If it bothers you that my thirst doesn't quench

and wants to have you on the nights

full of stone shadows, while new blood is born in you,

bubbling to the top of your supremacy,

I will close myself in the shell of my solitude,

altogether with my very last song - farewell,

to defend against your blows! 

From some long-forgotten day if only I were gone.

© Frosina Tasevska, Macedonia

If Only I Could

If only I could forget as much as I remember,

I'd have sealed the silence to prevent it from spilling.

If only I could remember how much I forgive,

I'd have shattered the dream to keep it from rising.

You believe I've forgotten the difficult parting' sighs.

However, I know I have forgiven you for

all your inappropriate life comparisons.

Love returns like a starved dog, a blue sky 

tainted with the day's shadow. Is it a dream? 

Perhaps it is a sweet rapture or maybe 

a longing that is just raging in the flames?

If only I could know as much as I forget,

I would believe in waking insomnia 

of our hidden love. I will be able to live 

as long as I desire.

You believe I have forgiven you, but I know 

I have forgotten you. Here, somewhere 

between the moment and eternity, 

the unreadable passion for diversity lives on.

© Frosina Tasevska, Macedonia

It's Time

It's time for you to finally reveal to me 

the cause of your departure, buried deep 

in the empty space of indefiniteness. 

It's time for you to tell me the nature 

of your uncontrolled thirst for rudeness, 

for superiority, unreasonableness, and irrationality,

and to share the fear that weighed on your chest, 

growing from night to morning.

It's time to finally bear the truth 

about your naive descent into the abyss 

during the poet's creation, 

because a mere mortal with a red sun in his eyes 

had you captivated in the nightly hours, 

and then, suddenly, never again to meet you 

among the ordinary, unremarkable wanderers. 

I will always be here with you in thoughts of eternity 

and the fullness of the moment, our every word wrapped

in an untitled poem. It's finally time to sing with a clear voice!

© Frosina Tasevska, Macedonia

FROSINA TASEVSKA

FROSINA TASEVSKA: hailing from Shtip, Republic of Macedonia, is a versatile poet and writer proficient in both English and Macedonian languages. With two solo poetry collections to her credit, Frosina's literary prowess extends across national and international platforms, including magazines, journals, and anthologies. Recognized with numerous awards, she seamlessly weaves her words into compelling narratives. Alongside her literary pursuits, Frosina serves as an educator, bringing her passion for language and creativity to the classroom.