i knew for a long while that the summer was over and now it really is. i only vaguely remember the way it began: pavements covered in blossom, lounging in the field under the stars, watching sun setting above our heads.
there was majorca.
there, in the evening, i scoured every shop for a memento to give to you. i found a wooden statue, obscurely sexual, sensuous, expressive: two figures entwined in an embrace, their sleek polished bodies holding each other. the male form bent round the female: side view of him, the woman – face on.
you didn’t like it very much and i can’t say i blame you: you had enough trouble reading a spy in the house of love. of all her men, the only one you remember is allan: the one she married, the father figure in her life. what of the others?
———- a blank.
can’t say i agree.
i had a dream of the english boy night before last: his birthday party conjured itself in a palace. i was with you of course. then, somehow i was speaking to him. back to you, fawning over the flowers Y’s girl had. and then a girl attendant handed me a huge box of those very flowers. scribbled on the box was “i love you”. from him.
still, those are only dreams. and i don’t mind that.
Posted in chapters of my life
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it’s glass,
translucent white murano
[christmas morning, shock, lips meeting in the dark]
that detonates you in my mind
чомусь
smashed champagne bottles
[the glass opaque, the colour of wet sand at night]
are littered here,
confetti of my lives.
they live from new year to new year
[incredible, alluring, bold vibrant colours in the setting dusk]
until all age is lost.
until that slice of sunshine
so often playing in your eyes,
[a child in sandbox, early summer, smell of peonies, freshly moved grass]
sets me alight once more
чомусь
——————————–
it’s been a long way coming here. i lost so much of me, you lost of much of you. the long march, where the world got trampled in the mud. but now we’re here, lets do it. no hesitation. there must have been a reason for it all.
Posted in excerpts
Tagged age, alight, all, alluring, are, been, bold, bottle, but, champagne, child, christmas, colour, colours, coming, confetti, dark, detonate, do, dusk, early, eyes, for, freshly, from, glass, got, grass, have, here, hesitation, incredible, it, lets, lips, litter, littered, live, lives, long, lost, me, meet, mind, more, morning, moved, much, mud, murano, must, my, new, night, no, now, of, often, once, opaque, peonies, playing, poems, poetry, reason, sand, sandbox, set, setting, shock, slice, smashed, smell, so, some, summer, sunshine, that, there, they, to, trampled, translucent, until, vibrant, way, we, wet, where, white, world, year, you, your
notes reverbrate in my head, songs drown in their own chords. words on words, words on words.
and i am fear, i am love.
i’ve been found out.
‘i am yours now
so now i don’t ever have to leave
i’ve been found out
so now i’ll never explore’
and i can’t stop thinking, though you’ve given me no reason to. you’ve been a darling, my precipice of love.
it is me, it is i.
i’ve betrayed your honest motifs by wanting more, by being unsure. every other girl would be thankful to never have to leave, but i am i. i can only think of all the lands whose flowers won’t open their buds to me, of all the trees that won’t bloom for me.
i am me and this is i.
i want to come and go, spending every morning in your harbour, every night – under the shine of communal stars.
i’m only tender and i’m only young. i can’t go for days without setting bridges on fire.
imma let it burn.
Posted in chapters of my life
Tagged all, am, and, be, been, being, betrayed, bloom, bridges, buds, burn, but, can, can't, chords, come, communal, darling, don't, drown, every, explore, fear, fire, flowers, found, girl, give, go, harbour, have, head, honest, i, imma, is, it, lands, leave, let, love, me, more, morning, motifs, my, never, night, no, notes, now, of, on, only, open, other, out, poems, poetry, precipice, reason, reverbrate, setting, shine, song, songs, spend, stars, stop, tender, thankful, the, their, think, thinking, this, though, to, trees, under, unsure, want, whose, without, won't, words, would, young, your, yours
your life is blistered
by the setting sun
and dreams we dreamt
as if we were living
for one life only
the jokes we told
today: the ironies of life,
the laughs we laughed
callused by bitter strangeness
adieu
to you
is but a foreign language
to me it’s broken glow stick lighting up the sky
i’ll say goodbye
but not in english
i’ll say goodbye
and it will be forever new.
————————————————–
last weekend i was away with friends. trekking. miles walked under the coldness of october sun with you, with Y and others. according to Y it is over a year since he began life anew with his blonde. i know it isn’t. the day he professes their anniversary is the day i spent crying in his arms. it was the day when i almost begged him for a platonic kiss. it was the day he said “how can it be platonic if we are in love?”
Posted in excerpts
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how did i manage to walk this yellow-brick road and stumble into the emerald city without any sense of realisation? without triumph or glory? without stopping to admire the view?
how is it that i almost can’t remember what my Auntie Em looked like or of how i’ve grown into these ruby slippers, mine by default and no more?
and darling, how comes it none of it matters any more?
my past is past.
i remember i worried that it may not last. that it’ll lose itself in the water of oblivion somewhere in the base of forbidden fountain. but i know now that the cyclone that brought me here will never return. that chasm has been closed off forever as of today.
my citizenship application has been successful and i am ready to see where else this yellow brick leads.
so here i am now, cruising this jade-encrusted city, as the green glass glitters in the pale light of the setting sun.
my toto has run off, or maybe he was never here, but what does it matter? i was always meant to walk these streets alone. and somewhere in the distance i hear the wizard command “close your eyes and tap your heels together three times. and think to yourself, there’s no place like home.”
so i do.
and i remain standing just where i was, the bright lights of london like a disco.
my own private party.
Posted in chapters of my life
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glittering soot on her eyelashes 
