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Showing posts from March, 2017

I'll give it back

It's a sunny day in London. We wear matching shirts and denim. White shoelaces on black converse and golden bracelets with our names on them. It's a sunny day in London, cross legged on a bridge, I am not afraid with you by my side.
We're uncatchable, untouchable, unreachable.  You try to take a picture of me, all smiling and looking happy like ice cream with sprinkles on top and a flake but I lose my blue scarf that I loved so much. Eaten, soaked, taken by the river and we run in the wind and I will get a cold and won't be able to sleep at night.  But you're there. You'll make me a cup of tea and let me sleep in your bed, you will make a pillow out of your jacket in the small sofa in the kitchen and you will look funny sleeping there because you are so tall!  But first you'll sit with me and talk to me about your troubles and dreams until I fall asleep. Words half spoken, we still understand each other. We will engage in deep debates and forget about the c…

I read a poem

Poetry came to me when words made ugly sounds and gossip weighed me down and distorted my curly hair. Words melted me and shaped me into suffering too soon and I thought I would never look back on my childhood with a smile.
But poetry came to me and held me in its hands. Poetry sang lullabies and told me my hair was soft and brilliant like crushed velvet and my dark eyes were like two black olives of the ones that grow in the south next to the figs that coloured my hands sticky red.
Poetry came to me when I cried for the first time and it felt as if something had broken inside my eye and it would never be dry again, but poetry told me tears were precious diamonds in liquid form and one day they would light up a whole life.
Poetry fell on me like leafs from a cherry tree on a windy day in Autumn and it told me love was there, in that very moment. It told me love was beautiful and magical and pure.
Poetry, came to me too perfect, too good, too pretty. Poetry challenged me to love and be…

Things we refuse to say

A frown focused on a screen and a thin line or two appear on his forehead like little ticks of approval. His face drawn towards the unnatural coloured brightness of a word document. I want to be looked at like he looks at that screen. I want him to look at me like he looks at that screen. So into it he might just jump into the world in his thoughts.
An unusual seriousness replaces his foolish smile. Thoughts journey through his face. Oh how jealous I am. Does he know my eyes are also, journeying through his face?  A frown focused on a screen and vertigo. My heart falls over, like it's suddenly gained the same magnetic power as earth itself and earth is it's polar opposite. I can not lift myself up, I can not get detached from this new earth and I die, bit by bit.  Thoughts roll over his face. I want to know them.