Poem #1
One touch
lavender jazz
fills my aura
of the last summer’s rosewood
that persisted,
exceeded,
won me over.
I’m the last summer rosewood,
the one who awaits you.
The first time we met, we went to the woods. It was a hot and red afternoon. We drove around, talked about art, music, cinema, we discussed ideas for a surrealist screenplay. I thought he was the most real person I’d ever met or just completely crazy. Nowadays art is just a capitalist medium, because it relies on money to be produced and seen. It’s only when you start selling your creations that you feel like you have to belong, in order for your art to be accepted.
I guess he thinks that I’m crazy. But I don´t really mind. I’m almost sure that the first word he uses to describe me is stubborn, but I don’t mind either. How does he get the virtue of listening to all my apologies? I thought he was human, and yet, he never ceases to amaze me. Time after time he saves me from the certainties of life. I know that I belong with him. Well, I actually belong to him, and I guess he doesn’t realize that. It’s all about the joy of belonging and sharing, is it not?
He thinks of me as unpredictable, and sometimes that can be scary. I try to show him that even if he’s lived through everything, he can still find new things to be curious about. I feel like we’ve grown together and that we’ve known each other all our lives.
Poem #2
and, in the two ways of being
I am nature
my pleasure
detaches me
of empathy
I feel for you
I feel for them
that I keep for myself,
I am,
nature