it’s time for answers. or questions. whichever.
a fellow writer inspired me to think about a few. and they started the clock tick-tocking inside my mind: what did a girl like me want anyhow? what is the dream, the true ideal?
1. i’d like a picture of you on my windowsill by my bed: to keep, to hold, to treasure. it will be my reminder that you exist and when i wake up in the middle of the night, wondering if i dreamt up my whole life, i want it there to touch. it’ll be solid in my hands. a relic. and it’ll be in a mosaic picture-frame we’ve yet to buy. in barcelona or in paris (just because i like the way you say it) or in a magic place far away.
2. i’d like to have you on call, running to me whenever i need you there and sometimes just because. you know: for no reason, just because i want to be in your arms where it’s never lonely.
3. and i want you to have eyes for nobody else but me, following me, stalking me, penetrating me anew with every gaze. i want them to ask me for affirmation of my love every morning and i want them to drown me whole, as if they were not eyes but lagoons of clear-blue water in devon, on hot summer afternoon, when all you want is to immerse yourself whole in water .
4. but more than anything, i’d like to know that this is where you want to be: here with me.
5. that will be all.
Posted in chapters of my life
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soar!
above the mountains, touching rooftops
where dreams are made through Kais and Gerdas of tonight,
their flowers – moondust
eclipsing the broken shells of sky.
i tell you, soar,
as if there was no tomorrow – who knows
if there will be a today.
i see horizon cracking at the edges, burdened with heavy clouds
of rain. cumulative correlation of cumulous clouds.
the very thought is raining on me.
so build your wings, Icarus:
i keep one eye in those clouds to watch over your flight.
as though you might not make it.
Posted in excerpts
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some days i realise
they wouldn’t be worth living
if i didn’t have you
pounding in my heart.
it sounds cliché,
somehow outdated, to say this here
and to say this now. almost
a long-distance call to atlanta
where skies flow like whisky down the throat,
and beach
and people, morning sunshine,
before receiver clicks in the ear
with mourning beep foreshadowing the silence
and storm
with a million shards of sounds
running like a movie in my eyes.
Posted in excerpts
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why was the moon shining so bright last night? and the night before last. the night before that it was cloudy but still it managed to peek through. and i don’t know what to say to you. i used to moon-watch when i was studying astronomy at school.
let me fall into this stupour. the whites of my eyes will turn into two big moons to shine on the world in the darkest light. for i am sin.
all sin.
and S is catholic.
beyond all means.
and i no longer know if he believes in love, because he believes in so little by believing in so much. if he ever asks, i shall tell him this much: that i no longer know him, because what he was to me is not compatible with what he is now.
i believe in choice. to me, choice is love.
catholicism is brutal: it gives no choice.
abortion is not an option he told me. what if the pregnancy is the result of rape? i asked. she’d still have to have the child.
my eyes glazed over. i forgot who i was speaking to.
and he’s not sure if he believes in contraception: life hasn’t forced him to think about that yet. how can anybody say that in a world with AIDS?
i’m lost. what does he know of the fire of desire that drives me on and on?
i know sometimes you have to let go and start again, from scratch. but i can’t. not now.
suppose i am Kai, from Hans Christian Andersen’s book, and he is the splinter of troll-mirror that befell into my eye.
how can i run away if it it’s in the mind?
Posted in chapters of my life
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what we are in the womb is everything we’ll ever be.
take you, take me, take S or X or Y, letters galore. take them all, take some more.
we can never change so long the warmth and darkness implores us. and if we can remember the dreams we had, they’ll be all we ever know.
i’m a girl tying pieces of the puzzles together. they still fit and i still am an involuntary virus to a willing host.
i liked yellow as a child.
and i told you, if you ever lied, i’d cheat on you.
well, that’s not true.
i wish i were that simple. i wish you knew that the river of you runs through my veins, pushed up against all gravity.
and that’s all the physics i know.
Posted in chapters of my life
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glittering soot on her eyelashes 