Cords
An island planted in the entrails of the city
Shipwrecked on its shore
I find shelter
Succumbed to a will that is finally my own
A tall fire starts in the darkest corner
And there I call you
I love you
In all the languages I have ever spoken to you
In all the languages we will ever speak
I promised to come
Here I am
Now
Let go
I am free and you are free
I say it loud and clear
In all the languages that bound me to you
In all the languages that set us free
For all lifetimes to come
A rotting carcass
Roses behind wrought iron fences
My parted lips as I breathe through my open mouth
Become numb and cold
Curiously cold
As the middle of my upper lip starts pulsating
Perhaps it rembers being sucked into a kiss
I then sink into my rib cage
A birdcage for my heart
My lungs two beehives keeping her warm
Will she ever break free?
I remember many, many years ago
A foot (I later had to love)
Stepped on it so hard
My ribs broke like a bundle of dry twigs
Under a thin layer of leaves on a forest path
There came a brief moment of stillness
Before something slipped out
Hovered above for a while
And flew off
Was it me?
Exactly one year ago today I moved my things into a new house and started a new life. So today I’m starting writing on my new blog, as an anniversary present I’m giving myself.
At the end of a long and intense day, I accidentally took the left turn too soon and found myself at the gate of this church I’ve been meaning to visit. To my surprise, it was still open and a tall man greeted me at the gate. I slowly stepped on this green island, roses and geraniums everywhere. It was so quiet I wanted to slow down my breath not to disturb the stillness. I leaned my bike against the church wall and, out of habit, locked it to a wooden bench. I went inside and felt like someone picked me up by the head and dipped me in a jar of incense and lily honey.
It’s so close to where I live and still I’d kept postponing to go inside. Schitul Darvari.
PS Dear Gabriel, be a good angel and make me understand the messages you bring.