28/1/21

Worms

I dream of my eyes being absorbed by your presence, that you turn your back on me but that my gaze pursues you like a landscape that does not want to lose.

You can go from laughing to tears in five seconds and my eyes want to haunt the wrinkles, movements, nerves and the daring of your beauty. 

I will make worms of them in the obsession to follow every time you exist, to see how your lungs expand and contract or the way your arms try to contain your joy but fail when you fall in anger

My eyes want to die with you being the last thing they see, be it with you with a dagger at hand or your hands praying that I don't go away.

I want to have you from the side, from the back, from the front, in all ways so that I can be in the dark and draw your shadow. I want it to be dementia calling schizophrenia to create forty hallucinations of you so my eyes never leave me for chasing you.

I need you to understand that I am one step away from blindness because I can distinguish the tones of your skin, the redoubling of your lips before forming a deception, the dance of your fingers when they waver through my body and the way that everything I see in your eyes is me.


Ta.


25/1/21

Midnight secrets


Let’s let the moon rest,

with turning off the stars like offline spotlights

stretching out in bed in the sin of laziness

and making a canvas out of our skin

Let's run our fingers like piano keys through each constellation that your wounds make,

measure the mountains and name the valleys of your column.

Thus becoming the spies who know every secret that brings the trembling and suppressed laughter of purple lips

We will keep the doors closed and the windows barricaded while we tell ourselves everything the sun forbids us to release. We shall leave ourselves raw with how the ribs feel under the weight of our kisses and mix our aromas to create a perfume that leaves us intoxicated during the end of the world.

Let's stop the clock from counting the seconds and minutes and show ourselves how the years passed through the tones of our skin. 

We will lead our hands with blind eyes on the secret terrain that our routes are, and teach ourselves how a love of knowing each secret is created.

Let's hide from reality and learn to find our heartbeat with our eyes closed.

 

Ta.

23/1/21

The thief of kisses

I should have given you a kiss

I should have called out your name

I should have grabbed your wrist and kissed you,

where your skin would beat and your blood would be warm.

I should have stood on tiptoe because you are the height of the skies and I the skyscrapers.

I should have held your bones as if they were gold made of porcelain and stole your breath while I said goodbye and disarmed myself on the nerves of my daring.

I should have ambushed you, between leaving and staying, I should have said your name as my last breath. 

With the fact that between your last vowel and the kiss there was no time, that only the drowning of your eyes and my lips constantly wishing for more, remained.


Ta.

20/1/21

Actions instead of words

I burn to say that I love you, I have the vowels trapped in butterflies and I want to take off in flight to spell the letters that make up my emotions for you.

But it is so basic and heavy that it costs me the last molecules of my soul. So instead I kiss each open wound of your feelings, I remain silent when a storm takes your place and I hold my breath while your pain is curses that only hurt you.

I can't say what I feel when it looks like a brittle promise, a see you later left with a padlocked door that my arms got tired of breaking. It is better that I show you how my eyes fight against dementia not to be drowned in your beauty, that my fingers cut themselves to not flee towards the sands of your body, that I stay with my legs always knowing the way to all the sorrows that you safeguard.

If you want, I apologise for not telling you that I love you from the roller coasters and the crashing helicopters. But if you want, I can also tell you I love you with staying by your side when the world has gotten bored of all your moods.

 

Ta.

17/1/21

The storm

I imagine it with rain and thunder

With me sitting under a tree that doesn't protect

With the tears that mix in the rivers of my face

That  you are looking for me but you don't see me because the wind roars and nature hides me

I  imagine trying to say your name

But all I get out are broken moans

My hands stretch to your footsteps but end up trembling on the wet earth.

We are so close yet so far that my heart is trying to break out of my prison

I see it possible with that if I only achieved a sound

One stronger than the wrath of the storm

One that will make it clear that I'm at your left

One that won't sound like begging

You would find me and we could be silent about everything

But I feel asleep and tired

I feel cold and fearful

So I let you pass by while my lungs break my bones from not being able to breathe

And I still hear how you scream my name in reverse from where the wind comes from

I still see you walking with your eyes open waiting to see a hair, an eye, a salvation

But I am already exhausted with no other strength than to sleep with my head on my legs and let this migraine take control of what is dying.

I imagine that you are soaked and that you no longer distinguish your skin from water, that your voice is hoarse and you don't even know where you are standing.

I would like that with what remains of my soul not to be the opposite of life and to be able to tell you that you have found me, However, I only get smaller, I just hide in the darkness of the clouds and imagine how you find me against tide and land even when you keep passing me by.


Ta.

15/1/21

Lost connection

Hello?

.

.

.

Does anybody hear me?

.

.

.

.

Houston, we have a problem

.

.

.

I am losing connection

My thread is popping up with smoke

My hands are made of phosphorous

There is a danger on the tip of my tongue that hides in the beat of my heart.

I don't know what is happening

Or I don't want to explain

.

.

.

Is there someone?

.

.

.

.

We are in DEFCON 3

.

.

.

.

And the white flags have been bathed in ashes and there are no trees that have branches for a sailor's knot.

My voice is fading in the emptiness of space, I am falling asleep in the cold that is running through my nerves and my brain shaking on the precipice of goodbye.

.

.

.


Ta.


13/1/21

we are ending

My love, I'm thinking of ending it all

with one more step and let the forgetting begin.

You are tired

I'm exhausted

I'm thinking that maybe it's for the best because your words sound like a snort and my heart is ice in the shape of a rock that seeks to blame every evil on your skin.

You are leaving

I am staying

My life, I am deciding that there are no more tears when we have already worn wounds. We will not have a better offer than to sigh and close our eyes, let’s do it like a band-aid and let it slip away.

You are alive

I am dying.


Ta.


7/1/21

Taboo

It was purer than love

more delicate than arteries

the example of the word taboo

It cost me my ribs 

and erase my essence in chemicals

Letting me abandoning everyone

because no pain could survive.

Then.

It was the quickest poison

that took my breath away

and all my fingers pointed at me

I would have no more words for anyone

I would be left with broken lips

and with the memory of the presence that accompanied me.

There would be no equal

there would be no explanation

Just the sound of a windless day.

 

Ta.