Tears glisten, fingers figdet, buttons unbottonShoulders shudder, toungue licks lips, eyes blinkDilated pupils, moist skin, bare colarbonePeople perform desire for specific reasonsAs they do sorrow.There’s no need to be offendedAs long as we’re here,Let’s make the most of it.
The empty streets, the wispy cloudsThe breeze, the skinny trees, the seaThe unblinking nightThe innofensive drops of rainLight kisses, untraceable on skin
He was a married manAll he could offer me were back massages and lemon teasOld book with auburn pages and a lot of confussionLong, meaningful stares across the tableA glass of wineA promiseBut mostlyJust sad goodbyes, waving ample, like his children
Mergea cu mâinile în buzunar și singura lui companie îi era un cer de cerneală, lipsit de stele. De undeva departe se auzea șuieratul disperat al unei locomotive, urletul unei mame care-și cheamă copilul dispărut. Nu era mare lucru de făcut după ce apunea soarele. Odată ridicate toate restricțiile, oamenii s-au îmbolnăvit de dorul lor, fără să-și dea seama. Libertatea e un lucru periculos, s-a gândit, dând cu piciorul într-o cutie goală de detergent. Digul aduna cele mai ciudate obiecte.…
To what extent can you trust love? Does it not blind you? Does it not leave you naked and poor? Doesn’t it ripp you off of family and friends? Doesn’t it strip you down of your personality and taste? Who is she really, this woman who lies beside me In my most unprotected hours? Some of my clearest memories are of watching her shine With anger and now I’m still unable to look away, But I don’t really know her…
Jaw framed by clenched fists, knuckles white like bare bones Eyes wondering on the window, a landscape of washed out people Hurrying back home, to warm arms and hot cups of tea His brain like hot lava, wondering why he did not leave, When the leaving was good, when sun was slowly sinking In his bed of roses, when things were not said, when consequences Still mattered. Image @ unsplash
The sun caught its dawning rays In the lacy leaves of the locust tree above us There is no such thing as the perfect weather To fall in love Because being in love plays its own trick On the way we see things, transforming Heat into decadent skin, clouds into foam, pain into pleasure And many other pretty little deceiving versions Of reality. Image @ unsplash
We were alone today for a few hours Me and my newborn child, I snuggled my nose Into his tummy, his clothes smelt of milk I breathed him in and felt some sort of nirvana I felt exhilarated, as if I had stolen something Without getting caught and when my two year old daughter Returned home she asked me to hug her while she sleeps Her skin is so warm and soft, I imagine This is the way love must…
Goodbye summer, see you next year Long ribbons of clouds float towards the horizon As rain falls carelessly from raging sky Broken in pieces by lightning That’s the place where all the tall people reside In the tallest of buildings I had been crying all morning and now I’m at the end of tears Our late nights are beginning to tell on my mornings We will never be the same, you and I Our love is less certain Than the…
