you taste like peaches,
your ripeness undeterred
by the tight o of my mouth //
it’s the first day of summer
or the last day of spring
or some other time, where the time
is right for falling in love //
and you taste the way a peach does
when it first falls to the ground.
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
Tagged above, began, blossom, covered, embrace, entwined, evening, every, expressive, field, figures, for, found, give, heads, i, is, knew, long, lounging, love, majorca, memento, now, obscurely, only, our, over, pavements, prose, really, remember, scoured, scribbled, sensuous, setting, sexual, shop, stars, statue, summer, sun, there, times, two, under, vaguely, was, watching, way, wooden, you
no response. my heart is the silence of the world sleeping.
i barely wrote about him: he never seemed to matter. you are my prince, patience incarnate. often all i need is that little piece of silent tenderness: i am simple but i change with the northerly wind.
all i seem to do is read and sleep: summer brings deep slumber to my senses and burning sun only makes itself felt on the nape of your neck. when my eyes see it, the gently tanned skin colour of sandalwood, an urge from deep within me wants to cradle it with the palms of my hands, feel its warmth as if through it i shall hold a ray of sunshine, all warm and sensual, taken from a book of mild erotica.
funny how when i felt it last, rejection felt like a consuming fire in every which one of my pores. now, it is a slight breeze tangling up my hair, soft sand in my eyes, thorny roses brushing against a scab: strangely seperate from me.
you think i can’t see the pain in your eyes. true, you hide it well, but i know you and i know that i told you that he mattered in more ways than one would care to. i’m sorry.
S is nothing; i am love.
it’s about aesthetics, feeling, about loving contour and form and not it straight lines … and i got too attached to you, S. funny that, i try to live without feeling.
no response. so we learn to fly.
Posted in chapters of my life
Tagged about, aethetics, against, all, are, attached, barely, book, breeze, brings, brushing, burning, but, can't, care, change, colour, consuming, contour, cradle, deep, erotica, every, eyes, feel, feeling, felt, fire, fly, form, from, funny, gently, got, hair, hands, heart, hide, him, hold, how, incarnate, it, itself, know, last, learn, like, lines, little, live, love, loving, makes, matter, me, mild, more, my, nape, neck, need, never, no, northerly, not, nothing, now, of, often, one, only, pain, palms, patience, piece, pores, prince, prose, ray, read, rejection, response, roses, s, sand, sandalwood, scab, see, seem, seemed, sense, sensual, seperate, shall, silence, silent, simple, skin, sleep, sleeping, slight, slumber, soft, sorry, straight, strangely, summer, sun, sunshine, taken, tangling, tanned, tenderness, that, think, thorny, through, to, told, too, true, try, urge, wants, warm, warmth, ways, we, well, were, when, which, wind, with, within, without, world, would, wrote, you, your
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
Tagged about, affirmation, afternoon, all, anew, answers, anyhow, anything, arms, ask, away, barcelona, be, because, bed, blue, but, buy, by, call, clear, clock, devon, did, dream, dreamt, drown, else, ever, every, exist, eyes, far, fellow, few, follow, frame, gazee, girl, hands, have, here, hold, hot, ideal, if, immerse, inside, inspire, it, just, keep, know, lagoons, life, like, lonely, love, magic, me, middle, mind, more, morning, mosaic, my, need, never, night, no, nobody, not, Paris, penetrate, picture, place, questions, reason, relic, reminder, running, say, solid, sometimes, stalking, started, summer, than, that, them, there, they, think, this, tick, time, tock, touch, treasure, true, up, wake, want, water, way, were, what, when, whenever, where, which, whichever, whole, will, windowsill, with, wondering, writer, yet, you, yourself
my span of wings in trepidation,
resembles the beat of African drums
heard from below
on a warm afternoon:
mid-may or mid-summer, among a circle of people
whose very lives to mine,
no more than tangents to the exponent of y.
and beating wildly with the rhythm of life,
i long to keep on rising,
rinsing out of water like venom rinses out of blood
because, whatever the reason to this life,
within these veins runs music,
slipping gently in and out of life.
Posted in excerpts
Tagged african, afternoon, among, beat, beating, because, below, blood, circle, drum, drums, exponent, gently, heard, in, keep, life, like, lives, living, long, may, mid, more, music, my, of, out, people, poem, poems, poetry, reason, resemble, rhythm, rinse, rinsing, run, slip, slipping, span, summer, tangent, this, thse, to, trepidation, veins, venom, very, warm, water, whatever, who, whose, wild, wildly, wing, wings, within, y