She had raw love
the one you don’t find easily,
the one that is hard to play with,
the one that destroys you.
but you will still keep asking for more
because it’s a poison
that would end your hidden sufferings
because she can make you believe
with her eyes and love
that you are missing something within
you don’t fear death now
you fear those eyes,
that love,
this life,
without her.
Love is like a Parisian night,
To which fanciful fools are drawn;
But tower lights, and stars alike,
All fade away at dawn.
Oh what a blessing it is to see you in the daylight,
Blue sky, green grass, and your skin, it glows,
I love the hot days where we stare the warmth, in our eyes.
I love the cool nights , where before we fall onto the beds, hoping to travel into the caressed dreamland
Ends decipher themselves,
As we trace the origins,
of us coming close,
and forgetting to waltz back
Into this slippery reality
There is not
A single soul among these trees
And I love to decipher your voice
But the silence of yours is what
Keeps me at night.
Don’t know where I’ve gone.
It somewhere between the time,
I knew you
And somewhere between when you were
Interested to know about me.
Fill me up to the brim :
With a dream made up of your voice.
So when the silence finally descends,
at the dead of the night,
I could trace you once again,
like a painter does.
With his bare hands.
Just whisper, when?
Don’t ask why.
You sit in the garden
swinging to and fro,
a shining sun
brilliant yellow with warmth
brightly painted oranges in your hand
or are they tangerines?
I do not know
for I was not invited
to this winter feast.
You sit with the others,
peals of laughter,
seeds of conversations
leak into my room somehow.
The pulp of the oranges
dripping from your lips
as you discard the peels
dulled by time
turning bitter and dry.
Let them fall to the dirty ground
uncared for and
unnecessary.
I forget their existence, the sun
and the warmth.
I remember us,
the pulp stained lips
and a thirst for never missing such feasts,
where your eyes inch this close to me.
where the breath turns citrus in unison.
I lie on the ground, the grass is still wet from the fog.
I turn and turn, the rose petals are still shameless, it’s like the dying autumn, massacred by the winter.
I seek you in the dream I always had, near a valley, by the sea, the coral reefs too stubborn to die. Taste that water, the blue elixir. Don’t just leave me with a sense of insecurity, It feels like a packet of cigarettes from a night you cannot remember on your tongue. The seagulls will laugh on a specie with no control over heart. I dream of you for your voice is the dream : subtle, pure and forgiving. The lands of the beach are a sign to find to a spot to sleep when the moon drinks itself to brightness. I turn into a universe that kisses the galaxy. So close but so imagined.
My heart, flower now,
Crush it for the taste once
Touch me tonight ,once.
Writings to Heaven 