y por si es la última vez que nos escribimos,
rayo de sol entre las nubes más oscuras,
si este hilo de Ariadna que te dí acaba roto
por culpa de los ladrillos agrietados
de esos muros que construyo a mi alrededor
que sepas que nunca te quiero olvidar a ti tampoco
me impediré buscar tu nombre en aeropuertos
en canciones o poemas
en hilos, en conversación, en redes
ciega seré para mejor despertar, algún día
con gratitud intacta, y paz, y amor
anhelo y esperanza de un corazón abierto de nuevo
I went to something super special tonight, called prostíbulo poético, or poetry brothel. It took place in an old basement, reminiscent of a speakeasy, or maybe more accurately a Spanish interpretation of one, or one of those old-school interwar salons full of drunkards and writers, dreamers and hedonists (but aren’t we all one or the other?) with all the accoutrements of seduction and decadence, that feels both clandestine and deliciously subversive.
The event is hosted by a Madame, (obviously) who introduces her girls one by one, before they recite a piece of poetry. Then, as patrons mingle, drinks are bought and cigarettes are lit (indoors! another act of rebellion), if one doesn’t have a token, one can play dice with the Madame for one. The token is an extra, the price for asking one of the poets in a vis-a-vis, a personal recital.
In exchange for the token, the chosen poet takes you to a secluded corner, away from the crowd, and after a brief conversation, she asks you to close your eyes, and whispers a poem to your ear, just for you. Then she releases you and you both rejoin the others, and she wanders, waiting for the next one who will call to her.
It was godamn fantastic.
No one
No one’s first thought in the morning
No one’s good morning text
No one’s “tell me about your day”
No one’s “this made me think of you”
No one’s “welcome home”
No one’s “I love you”
No one to fill the void
No one’s someone
Invisible
Broken
Alone
Watching the sea erase
My footprints in the sand
Til not a trace remains
That I was ever here
But there’s no one
To notice
how is it that three little words can make a heart feel so big
yet make a soul feel so small
a cry for connections impossible
unanswered prayers lost in the depths
though the heart stays afloat, fighting against the current
pretending to swim as it tries not to drown
elated yet crushed at the same time
wondering why it keeps bidding for attention
desperate compulsion born of desperate thoughts
three little words that carry so much weight
but they’re so deep inside it can’t be freed
dark waters rise under the shadow of an indifferent moon
and the cold light of distant stars
the heart feels
but the soul knows
and pain overcomes everything
until my feet touch the bottom
and I can finally stand and breathe
on Lethe’s shore, the final crossing
forgetting everything and everyone
forgetting these three words
even existed
maybe then, peace
Alma rebelde
Y salvaje
Que se libra
De cualquier jaula
Alma bella
Y brillante
Que ilumina
El más oscuro de los días
Ojos que reflejan el mundo
Con sed de horizontes lejanos
Anhelo de tierras desconocidas
Alegría del movimiento perpetuo
Sin anclajes
Solo quizá, un hilo
Invisible y delicado
Que te di como Ariadna
Confiando en que no lo soltarías
Un hilo precioso y frágil
Uniendo nuestras almas
Mientras espero tu regreso
Pajarito salvaje
No seré nunca jaula ni anclaje
Sino nido, abierto y cálido
Un refugio seguro
Siempre que quieras descansar
Thoughts racing
Like windmills
Heart rushing through,
Don Quixote under spell
Brain, a futile Sancho
Trying to bring it to reason
Dry plains under a harsh sun
Dreaming a promise of rain
A Summer marked by falls
A Fall that begins with standing up again
Picking up the pieces
The endless cycle
This is not the end
Just a new beginning
Again,
And again,
And again…
Yann chuckled.
“Treasure hunt, uh? Coming from you Tim, I’m surprised. Didn’t think your king needed another sapphire on his crown!”
Sir Timothy smiled and shook his head.
“Gold, Yann. Gold that’s been waiting, lost in the wilderness.”
Hey girl, it’s me again
Always thinking too much,
Always afraid to overstep
Wondering about that leap of faith
And we seem to have it good
Around you I feel alive again
But I can’t see what’s on the road
What’s next lies behind a curtain
All the banter and no pushback
Still I’m never sure if you like me back
Sometimes curled up I let my mind wander
But then I call it back, too afraid it’s a goner
I thought such fears were in the past
I’d given up, that die was cast
I thought l’d never get another chance at this
Life was always less hit and more miss
But here I am, butterflies in my head
Wondering if fate is really this kind
Doubting the truth of what I see
Wondering
If you really like me
Shifting lines in the sand
Of love and intimacy
Ebbing and flowing
Never really settling
Heart lost in idiosyncrasy
Everything ahead a foreign land
An unraveled strand
Of misleading intricacy
I’m blind but tottering
With an inkling
I will find mercy
By your hand
The heartbreaks
The pains
The failures of life
I call them my Kintsugi moments
I pick up the pieces of me
That are broken
Put them back together
Lovingly
And paint the cracks with gold
Its light shimmers
And guides my way forward
Always brighter