Stalker

4.2.3

So summer is gone,
A week later he hanged himself.
because he doubts.

He opened my eyes.
Searching for the truth.
Unconscious compassion

our world is hopelessly boring.
But there’s more that I admire
I love your eyes, my darling friend,

Difficult childhood, bad environment…
a lot of fear, and a lot of shame.
works of art.

Day, like glass, washed all clear,
And the stars of the sky
they gobble up both my heart and soul.

because weakness is a great thing,
He was following you all the way.
And the sun became black

In bursts of love-inspired fire,
I get wounded again.
Oh God, for me it’s prison

You may travel light, if you wish,
all in white,
and bandages.

And the moon became like blood…
It’s called “the meat mincer”,
And my subconscious is yearning

I have no wish to pour my filth
Images of the absolute truth!
And I… I didn’t even argue with her.

Old traps disappear
and every church had its God.
artificial limbs.

I guess I’ll wait for you here
I haven’t slept all night.
My inspiration has been lost,

he becomes kinder.
The smell lingered
So beautiful here.

I can get no peace, no sleep.
with the pearls
What else is there to wish for?

One should write about nothing at all.
It’s not that wishes come true
as sackcloth made of hair.

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My Life as a Dog

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We thought you’d drowned.
This is what it’s like inside a girl.

Yes, out with your tongue.
so you’ll be weightless.

You can see my machine.
Completely naked?

At the first kiss his lost heart
Just a few scratches on my back.

everything that’s yours.
That’s where I live.

Time heals all wounds,
I should have told her everything

Girls have a sort of bottle inside.
They can tell things from handwriting.

She’s going to die.
with the waves.

Life is hard sometimes.
being poisoned with arsenic.

They put her in a sputnik
Kind of like the source of love.

She spun around up there for five months
Ribbons are incredible.

Who are you in love with today?
She sort of reads. She photographs

Then she puts her book down.
They attached wires to her heart

It is important to have things
Stories from life.

You have to say no sometimes.
You’re frozen.

I forgot to buy grapes.
The referee stops the match.

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Autumn Sonata

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I’m merely telling you how I felt.
She’s been here for the last two years.
listen and understand
Is my grief your secret pleasure?

I read your letters out loud.
They still contain a lot of secrets.
It’s like huge patterns
crazy about candy as a child.

I held her face and felt the disease
unreasonable dreams and hopes
heavy and gentle and as if enlarged.
gray film got even grayer.

We hadn’t known each other long.
I’ve thought of you so often, every day.
Cookies and mineral water, tape recorder,
but I can’t help thinking

My life seemed meaningless.
flower of her virginity.
“and long hair to your waist.”
It hurts. Hurts. Hurts.

I met you with demands instead of affection.
You trotted out your thoughtfulness
I couldn’t understand your words.
All that was sensitive

Touch me, at least!
Or do some people never live
to believe in limits.
Are you stroking my cheek?

I was brought up with beautiful words.
a horrible picture of myself.
Can’t you put your arms around me?
That soft, torn body

Maybe everything is already too late.
wall, and not a breath of wind.
My faith lives on her terms.
because I hated what was my own.

I bit my nails.
to learn the fingering.
To think I can’t carry her to my bed
commit suicide because of me

There is a kind of mercy after all.
in the name of love and solicitude.
But I want to spoil you.
twitching at her throat muscles.

Everything exists side by side.
hiss of the rain on the roof.
There can be no forgiveness.
He played badly but beautifully.

There was a divine red dress
phone for the ambulance.
you were not in your room.
abortion was the only way.

I don’t know if this letter will reach you.
You managed to injure me for life,
He rang for the night nurse
so you had dresses made

 

 

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La Grande Bellezza

child-with-paint

He’s obsessed.
with the vulgarity of words.
And in the end I thought…
Don’t leave me.

I haven’t seen you in 30 years
I take photos, you know.
a feverish vapour ascends like smoke
You’re always in my heart.

And like all fathers, I’m worried.
You must’ve been deeply in love
You just have to close your eyes.
Tell me why you left me, please.

These harsh damning judgements
laurel leaves, rosemary…
You don’t need my prayers.
I prefer you to be sad.

One photo per day.
Yes, she left you.
Without rain…
Can you see the sea?

How can I make you feel
My condolences.
especially the hips.
Morning is an unknown object to me.

like sweethearts under an oak tree.
You take the mourner’s hands,
From the crevices of that soil
I was looking for the great beauty,

It was nice loving each other.
One must never cry at a funeral.
but I love knife throwers.
This is how it always ends.

she smelled of flowers.
She brushed me with her lips…
flashes of beauty.
things that are meaningless to me.

She took a step back.
She left me, I think,
It was nice not making love.
when you feel the void,

I’m a transparent person,
a sea monster today.
Our journey is entirely imaginary.
I spent all my summers

the chitter chatter and the noise.
She found it beautiful and fierce.
Because he listens.
You’re guaranteed to be unhappy.

People who are younger than me,
hide a certain fragility,
Wouldn’t armbands be more
childhood.

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L’Immortelle

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This young woman is dark, very dark.
I see a hand, an arm, a bare shoulder,
women’s gatherings.

I am kneeling in front of you in the grass,
There are graves too. And she is even younger …
All they’re good for is making love.

Even the boats are unreal, as you can see.
Was he your father?
a ship that didn’t prove seaworthy…

I was alone that day.
with a silver chain…
jets of water…

I waited for you.  I looked for you.
your sleepless nights
fragile constructions by the water’s edge

And you go where the mood takes you …
I’m not afraid … I am free.
The wing, has it been repaired?

I haven’t found what I’m looking for.
And there’s the ship of your dreams …
I must go home. Now leave me.

on stretched canvases
All this is a product of your imagination …
Who knows.

I haven’t the faintest idea.
who is a friend of mine.
do you know her?

It can happen quickly, an accident.
I’m not even sure I spoke to her at all.
and he often looked at his watch.

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Mustang

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Your hymen’s right here.
“That’s the fragrance of paradise.”
You’ve been saying that for years.
Look, I found a seashell.

Can you read between the lines?
I slept with the entire world.
I used to kiss
Turn the wheel…

Where are the girls who blush
Rubbing up against boys’ necks.
I lost my sons.
So I stay a virgin

I’m going to dive under the water.
Careful with the knife.
Did you bleed a lot?
You’ll fall in love.

I only found out later
We’re locked in the house.
we have nothing to say.
and the word of the Prophet,

Sometimes she cried.
When I say I’m a virgin,
with your full consent.
But they’ll grow fond of one another.

Where are the veils?
Which one acts like a whore?
Leave me alone.
No one likes a soft dolma.

I was thirsty.
We’ll say we’re sick.
changed in the blink of an eye.
But I grew to love him.

Muddy slippers
the soles of my mum’s feet.
A beautiful girl too.
A few basic principles about soup.

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Nazarin

Nazarín-1959

I don’t know what keys are.
The ones she has inside.
When I felt short of breath, I felt…
Love is the prettiest thing.
look at her blouse.

but you looked pretty to me.
You filled the house
The smell that was here…
How much blood have you lost?
Are you leaving forever?

Oh, Father.
I swear he’s a saint.
He’s gentle, does no tricks.
He cured the girl
Here’s the chocolate.

Everybody comes in and out.
dives into your bones.
She pulled out a knife…
You yelled in your sleep.
Reject sorrow.

Today you were distracted
…three dogs howled.
Think of your sins.
Go look for milk.
and outer wounds.

I’m going to bleed you,
He’ll need bandages
That’s what death is like.
Soon, in a moment, a rope
And superstition.

You’ve taken over my thoughts.
I had never cared for anyone.
I’m dying.
Come with me now that it’s dark
in my mouth, honey pie.

I have taken a life.
and the Virgin Mary’s hands.
You are no longer needed.
…because an owl chirped all night.
Let me fix that wound.

I have failed, child.
Nobody loves…
omnipotence…
Humiliation is good
Lead us not into temptation.

Besides, my few possessions…
She took my buttons.
A coin, for the love of God.
…in her home such sorrow.
Made of shells.

Is that how you love, Father?
Barefoot?
for the wound?
Don’t mention miracles,
Careful, his hand.

Because night carries
Garbage.
Because I care for you.
And burglarized many churches.
I want you at my side.

so little, doll.
She came in to clean
Joyous and sorrowful.
…you won’t make me leave your side.
Each to his own solitude.

 

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