ipocrizie

avem toti o doza

de ipocrizie. 

care incepe uneori sa usture, ca o zgarietura prea adanca, ce atinge osul. 

a mea se infiripa intre gand si valori 

intre doua parti 

ale sufletului meu. 

pieces to care for

I would care for you 

as my instinct tells me to

my mind tells me to ignore it.  

I would keep you in my arms, although not so sure you would fully fit,

with your head on my arm

and would caress your face and hair 

and would smile at your smile, 

by instinct. 

And sometimes I would give you kefir 

the one I don't approve of

and other times biscuits and wine. 

And maybe sometimes pieces of my heart would stay with you.

tired

when life becomes a little bit too much of of what happens in between. 

tired of all that I need to push to happen

tired. 

pink dress

My first memory is of a pink dress, on my mothers closet. My mother's upset. My little sister in her arms. My mother throws the dress. My grandmother catches it. My mother's mother with her blue eyes and black hair. 

The most beautiful woman in the world, according to my mother. 

If you ask me, my mother will always be the most beautiful woman in the world, with her high neck, her smile, her brown green eyes, with her beautiful long hands. 

My mother's line of beauty runs deep in all mothers in my family, for their daughters and sons. And all of them, one day or another threw away a pink dress. 

Not all pink dresses suit woman in my family. 

rebel smile

days when I almost don't see you

days that theoretically are so busy

days that stay unfinished 

in a single way, 

a single thought that I try to catch in the needle I have in my hair

but it escapes, it builds through the gates of my soul, 

it sunks in the water of my conscience, 

underneath all that I say I want and need. 

it just is. 

A rebel thought that unleashes fire and ice inside my body. 

A rebel thought that arrives back in my mind with a memory of your smile. 

And I cross my arms and I try to think of all I do not like about you. But your smile brought back by a rebel thought somehow makes all of those other thoughts fade. 

Why I like your smile so much? 

because it is the only one that you can not control, that shows a little bit of what is underneath. 

eye corner

I see you with the corner of my eye 

at a table surrounded by your people

but tired, with your eyes red. 

I see you in another city, in Cluj, or in Alba, or maybe in Iasi surrounded by people you like. Making your presence known.

I used to see you more and to like seeing you more in my mind. 

through writings

through writings I give space to something  that will never be the same

through writings I express a little bit of how I see you 

through writings I heal