7 gestures

I remember few days after those 

7 minutes. 

Just waiting. 

I remember weeks after those 7 minutes. 

Sometimes texting in conversation with emoticons.

A little bit ashamed. A little bit week. A little bit too blonde and too vulnerable. 

A little bit too much, but my heart did not know how to release. 

I remember I wanted to take back those 7 minutes. 

I remember I did not like myself for wanting to take back something I felt. 

I remember I did not understand. 

So much distance in between what I felt and what was to be felt - absence. 

Absence I got used to at one point. 

And then Absence dissappeared. 

And things got almost normal. 

but normal I don't do it seems. 

I would love to do normal, 

but it seems I just don't do. 

I do gestures. 

and I do what I feel. 

So on the first 7th of the year 

a gesture came from my heart. 

But maybe a misplaced gesture

not suited and unwanted

And it brought again absence. 

As for not to be in any way misinterpreted. 

the gesture had no goal. 

the way I am

I am one way and in an only way

I am brave and vulnerable 

I am enthusiastic and energetic 

but sometimes I open up to you and others few 

and I am tired and less of how I used to be. 

your eyes

looking in your eyes 

and trying to look aside

looking in your eyes and finally being able to look away. 

looking in your eyes and seeing something

I want to embrace with all my heart. 

looking in your eyes 

walk away 

as it should be. 

truth

it is in a corner of a table 

that your truth your whole truth 

is set 

near my truth, my whole truth 

I feel it normal. I fully trust you. 

Although sometimes I don't agree with your style. Almost always agree to your opinion. 

whispers

maybe it is my imagination 

or my intuition that is far fetched 

but I feel you waiting. 

not so sure of what.

but maybe just some thoughts 

some things you decipher in my presence

or just of my presence. 

most probably it is nothing at all 

it is again nothingNess of my whisper

whisper to share

 

no purpose

why do I still feel the need to write my emotions down?

or just to say hi 

or only to say I just left some place early or late.

It has no purpose.

Will learn to stop. 

 

shadows

inside a woman 

a man resides 

her ideal masculine self 

it is towards him 

letters were written 

from 12 to 15th of age

it is towards this man, usually strong and beautiful, smart and kind 

her dreams have opened up like flowers in spring 

and she carries this image with her 

sometimes all her years 

sometimes if she is lucky 

up to the moment when

she feels reality will never be a dream 

and should never be one. 

reality is messy as a real man and woman are, 

but she has the force inside to still smile at that dream, of that little girl.