Monthly Archives: October 2011

hurricane in a bowl

drink me through a straw
and make me swirl:
i’m just a hurricane in a bowl
waiting to shake up the world.

and since
there was everything and nothing
before you:
a spiral spinning phosphorescent blue,  ̶

 

i see that world in you.

95. when air grows warm and shallow

i am discovering this world, not unlike a newborn: scent by scent, piece by piece. and aren’t we all?
no questions plague me, no worries weigh me down and nothing seems to matter very much at all. estoy contento.

it’s all about times like this in life: when air grows warm and shallow and eyelids flutter, cascading downwards to close in a sort of tired midnight bliss.
it’s times like this. times where you sit by the radiator, mid-october, and listen to life happen outside your window, noise by noise, laugh by laugh, the voices merging with the wind and night.

and all you feel is warmth, a yearning for a hibernation.
as nights grow longer – a pressing need to forget all and sleep in; to snuggle up for that one moment more, underneath the covers vividly coloured with summer – oranges and fuscia pinks – and dream of snow.

i want the frigid maiden winter and all her hidden joys: falling flat on your face iceskating, hot chocolate held in cupped frozen hands, reading old classics under the covers, red noses, father christmas and the constant sparkle of magic in the air.
i want it all and yet estoy contento with all i have right now, right here: the oranges and reds, the windy mornings drizzling with rain of new beginnings.

i have it all, your fingers in my hair.

94. leave it with me

the world is not bruised blue with hurt.
i know, darkness does not dillute, but switch on the light in your head and see past that. you see those fevrent, glistening patches? their bright lights will get us through; and if you can’t motivate yourself, i’ll motivate you. 
just follow them, not me. if i get lost, you’ll get there for me. we’ll be the magi following the star to christ. we’ll be birds migrating back to the lands of their past. 

my phone got stolen. it’s bad enough without that. worry covers me in goosebumps, barely visible, like a faint odour on my skin. 
all that i am is disconnected from this life and you ask me to be stong. i’m not a rock, but i will be. i’ll find a medusa inside of me and face her head on. the rock of me will hold you up, warmth echoing through the cold, i promise. you are so good to me: i ran to you, banged on your window and you came with me, looked out for me, missed things for me. now it’s my turn.
leave it with me.

93. and wasn’t you the one meant to save me?

what do i do now that i’ve loved you far too long, far too much? i’m weak, i have no fight left in me. surrounded by this new world in the land of medieval tales and robin hood, i look back to the times i didn’t yet love you and wonder, how the hell did i fall so far, so deep, so unprotected?
and wasn’t you the one meant to save me?

a sandwich always lands butter side down; my loves always land like this: an aeroplane falling head on into a liquid abyss. sink or swim. the choice is yours and i surrender.

with you, i learnt to understand the silence and words dry up on the tip of my tongue.
i had so much to say but all comes down to this: i’m nothing without you. don’t ask me why: i don’t quite know myself.