Communication/ Comunicação
Are we
needing to cater and cow down, endlessly, in front of the imagined other, who
will tear us apart anyway? The carelessness comes after taking care of
business, but the brightness is so fast to hide from me. Now, I can see it.
Now, I cannot.
Listen,
can you hear the birdsong now and now and now, as the dragonflies gather and
the light is the brightness, so much so that in communicating with myself I am
communicating with the universe, my closest person who looks after me, my
friends and family, and the holiest of holy, the interpreter of my emotions,
the conveyor, the immaterial lover who is touching me to make sure I am still
here, relentless, proud, myself, frail. I become lust in the evening sun and
feel warmth on my face and toes and hear the ice clinking in the glass as
invitation to better things. The liquid is orange and pink and I feel how my
body relaxes, it is hot to sit in the sun.
Physicality
means more in the summer, the heat brings me closer to my core self, and I
apologize to her for making her endure the hardships of the dark ages that
submerge the ship most of the year. Can you even come closer or is it now
behind a fence that you are spying me, in my cheesy Barbie pink visor and my
father’s flannel shirt and I still look like Tom Cruise, only how he looks now
instead of in the 80’s?
My left
leg is sporting signs of how hard it has been to move all winter. I have aged,
unbeknownst. I don’t wish to see myself but I still maintain colossal
self-confidence if the mirrors are covered. I never used to think about my
beauty until I married a man who kept bringing everything back to it. He
maintained as absolute he would prefer to deal with beautiful people and being
beautiful was preferable to unpretty, and what a gorgeous couple we made, and
thank christ I was beautiful because I had such a terrible personality, in
fact, I was the supreme asshole.
Can you
see the brightness making the dragonflies frolic and frolic and the dog run
towards me because she recognizes a kindred soul? Can you see it now and now
and now? I lose sight of it if I move too fast, so I try to stay put and love
my days from a stationary position. Here, I move my body without difficulty. I
do not waste my beauty with a man who only needs for me to be beautiful and not
the brightness.
This is a
lie. He would say I was the brightness. That is exactly what he used to say.
You shine, and I bask in your brightness.
How come
beautiful things melt into ugliness and bad endings?
I am
lonely with a body sitting next to me, then I see them and my loneliness lifts.
Why is it so hard to keep myself like this? To take it as a beautiful forever,
not a marathon where I am forced to participate? The percussionist begins, I
hear it faintly. Happy Birthday, says the rabbit, but it is not my birthday,
and I see him only behind the shrubbery. It is so nice to just sit here.
Magic as
transient property: some lose their magic with age, some gain it; the same with
places, moments, times of day, seasons; sometimes it is the morning, sometimes
twilight, sometimes magic lies in the surroundings, sometimes it does not; can
one move around the magical properties?
Did I take
the magic of Pyhäniemi with me? Did I transport the magic of Siuro? Does it
exist in the house where I stay? Did I create magic inside this apartment
during the winter and spring? Am I the
magical compound?
Do things
become harder because of the accumulated magic, or because the magic has been
lost? Are things lighter, or heavier, with magic? Is magic a kind of soul with
an estimated weight, 21gr? Is it a thought? An action? An idea?
I feel
close to
Creating
intimacy remotely is difficult.
What a talent you have, darling! Beautiful words, thank you.
ReplyDeleteThank you so much, Natasha💕
DeleteGood writing.
ReplyDelete