am o pana
e pana lui Vlad cel ce tinea Tara Romaneasca
in tepe si in lupte
e pana ce a lasat in urma testamente
in unele seri o inmoi in trecatoare
sentimente
in unele seri in prosseco si in stari nemuritoare
am o pana pe care as plimba-o pe umerii tai
cu care as scrie istorie de ieri
am o pana pe care o misc greu
se misca o data cu sufletul tau.
Le-am incercat pe ambele.
ne scris
ne gandit
Ma golesc.
Nu inteleg cum si de ce.
Nu inteleg cum de nu simt furie.
As vrea sa am o furie in buzunar, pe care sa o scot si pe care sa mi-o impun.
Si totusi eu simt cu totul altceva.
Opus furiei.
my body smells of jasmin
in the afternoon rain
the layers of my soul
have no smell
only texture
hard like my arms
and soft like my tummy
the layers of my soul are infinite
each layer with its own power and virtue
and lack of it
and each layer is longing for
a specific soul with other infinite layers that have no smell, only texture.
the rational arguments
the lack of reaction
the empty space
all points out to a fictional connection
can not miss something that was not there
on the contrary.
(if) my imagination
it did damage much more than it was ever allowed.
it took something from me.
coincidence that the universe seems to send just to see how I react
coincidence to live with.
as i live without something I cared about.
wrote a goodbye
made of emotions
the hardest goodbye I ever experienced
a goodbye felt through the layers of my skin
a goodbye that I overdelivered
over talked and over stated
wrote a goodbye that i will never regret writing,
but that I still feel burning inside.
stop a heart from waiting and wanting
get her back to my body.
stop a heart from dreaming
get her into a program like hearts annonymous
stop a heart from imagining things
get her back connected to the cords of reality
if in the process this heart becomes weak and slow
so be it.
