XXLove letters

 

 

 When the present was framed,

 

I slither and hide in a lie,

It must be Julien,

He has a fit of conscience,

He tries to make it up to me,

As if it was his biggest sin,

I do my best to forget I was born,

It’s a big deal!

He didn’t forget our date,

But he had forgot my birthday,

I know the truth,

It is inside,

The picture frame was broken,

That day we had a lovers’ spat,

 I lost your written on glass dedication,

But I still remember every thought,

Although you change like weather in London,

Like the cloudy sky pattern in autumn,

‘I hope it will never break’,

‘Let’s remember all beautiful moments’,

‘I pray it’s not the end’,

‘After we made love and time stopped,

You approached the window,

I already missed you,

But I didn’t say how I felt’,

‘I’ve never been honest’,

It’s an enlarged summer photo of them,

They are not us,

They are much better,

Their biggest the third world fight was about who would go and borrow a knife,

So that they could cut a pine-apple,

They sat on the shore locked in embrace,

Covered in sand fingers and toes,

They didn’t wore sun protection,

We are afraid of love,

We won’t be ever like them,

We are two sleepless cuts of evil meat,

They even smelt much better,  

Fishermen borrowed St.Peter’s boat,

They made their living trying to catch the miraculous draught of mermaids,

Mister St. Peter walked on the water talking to his halo,

‘Where is my Teacher?

I wish he could see me’,

His halo was his saint himself,

It was a basement bar,

It gave off the smell of sambuca,

It was equipped with Tequila and one stroboscope,

Sirens were drank,

They were tired of being evil songsters,

Fatal creature were tired of killing by eating and wrecking,

‘If only we were vampires,

Being a vampire is always in fashion,

Mermaids are ugly,

Their tails are a sticky mess,

Mess can also be spelled as ‘meth’,

It was an addictive summer,

There is our picture inside the red box,

We crashed into each other,

 In this picture we are framed,

Now my life is a photo stock.

XXLove letters

 

Partly inspired by Charles Manson’s control mind ability. Especially the previous letter.

 

 

When for the first time I didn’t answer,

 

He lays the first stone,

When you open the gate of your head,

He is in construction business,

Overnight he builds a castle,

Many nights later he pulls it down,

The castle was built within the hole,

When you were not around,

He dug it in your head,

My inner voice is the door,

 It never pleads guilty to all felony counts,

Stabbing, kidnapping and rape,

My guardian angel is near,

It has the doorbell shape,

It’s the most persuasive serial killer,

I dug a peephole and started the war,

When I realized I was blind,

When I realized I couldn’t hear,

Now it aims at princes, white horses,

At castles and faithful servants,

At dragons and alligators hiding in castle moats,

Now I draw only curves,

Because they look like borders,

The border of my heart is my threshold,

 It separates today from tomorrow,

Reality from fairy tales,

His joy from my sorrow,

This time I’ll strike first,

This time you’ve sent a gangster,

In the particular movies he could be cast as one of lover boys,

In my movie he is a delivery ghost,

‘Do you still love me or not?’

Using his lips you ask the same question,

For the first time I stay silent,

For the first time I refuse to answer,

Despite my guardian angel’s warnings,

In the shape of a doorbell,

He isn’t depressed,

He isn’t lovesick,

He isn’t dressed like a prince,

He doesn’t hold a rose,

He hasn’t brought me a singing away nightingale in the cage,

He doesn’t have a family shield,

He doesn’t ride a white horse,

He probably rides a bike,

He has brought me one more exchange of mute feelings,

One more unfair trade, 

He’s holding something that looks like a coffin,

In an ostentatiously ribboned red box,

Something is hardly breathing,

Something inside is dying of love,

The first day of winter is quiet,

It douses strangers’ faces,

Everything says finally winter came to the city,

Summer memories are still kicking,

Winter’s breath isn’t missed,

It is missing,

Memories fall like snow,

Like the red box they have no address to return,

It came five days late,

After you left, everything keeps answering ‘No’.

 

XXLove letters

 

When God Was Somewhere Near,

 

 

My patience says ‘Go and open!

 Otherwise it won’t stop’,

My self-preservation instinct is a talking misery creature,

It’s older than my years,

It has wisdom deposits,

It’s smart only in retrospect,

 ‘Don’t let the worm of conscience bore holes in your will,

He will tame you,

You will become accustomed to calling,

To asking his questions,

To listening to his answers,

To liking his cooking,

To loving his love,

To sleeping with him here and there,

Now and then,

Soon you’ll start feeling guilty,

You rent his heart without paying your rent,

You squander his life,

You are ruthless,

You are a terrible person,

You will be punished,

You use his love,

He loves you like insane,

It will end like a horror story,

It never started out like a beautiful fairy tale,

 

One lonely night you’ll feel undesired,

Without calling him first you will come by,

You’ll do everything without,

You will believe in being a magician,

Simply you love the moment his eyes and the hallway light up with joy,

When you decide to stay,

Should I remind you the end?

His embrace will suffocate you,

Requests will become demands,

Often he will be grumpy,

 Happiness will disappear,

Your personal space will shrink,

Like a pair of jeans in a washing machine,

You both will get stuck,

Don’t let the worm of conscience bore holes in your soul,

After you kill him, you won’t be alone,

Take   off and dry your tears,

Dust all memories stalking your head,

Unbury one photo , one letter, one harbor,

Sharp splinters of happy times,

Listen out for the unsaid,

They say ‘Only he could make you happy,

You couldn’t take your eyes off him,

He didn’t killed you right on the spot,

After he had understood all the omens,

He came by and stayed without,

He killed you much later,

He took something he didn’t need,

It’s how he killed you once,

We are alive,

You are dead’.

 

 

XXLove letters

 

 

 

Inspired by the Rose that had a horror of drafts

 

When there was only the fear of drafts,

 

 

The doorbell is ringing,   

  It doesn’t shout ‘Open and let me in’,

 

It shouts the greedy truth,

 ‘Everyone who loves you,

Don’t hesitate,

Kill them,

Before terrible things happen,

I understand it isn’t easy,

They are not guilty yet,

Read the signs and kill him,

Before it is very late,

The moment you see the doggy stare,

Aiming at your eyes,

The moment he follows you all around the house,

The moment you stop being an object, a corner, a cloudy piece, a missing part,

The moment you are his vision,

You fill his entire visual field,

He has already dug up a hole as big as his pupils,

It has a safe, a coffee maker,

It’s very warm and fluffy when weather gets crazy and cold,

It’s a love nest without drafts,

They may destroy love seeds,

The moment you both start speaking your minds,

He is the one,

Who invites you to his hearty burrow,

You are the one,

Who is surprised ‘WOW! He and his heart are so sweet!’

Holding your hand he nudges,

Sometimes he even drags,

He wants you to look around,

He wants you to appreciate,

Everything that he has,

Everything that you see furnishes his loving hollow,

He has numerous bibelots,

He’s ready to give all his trinkets to you,

His face lights up when you smile,

When you are sad, he chokes on sorrow,

His burrow shines with cleanness,

It always has food in the fridge,

He always cooks thinking ‘What else to do? How to please?’

The first thought is planted by wisdom,

‘It’s good when the wind doesn’t blow,

When there is a warm bed,

There is no mud,

It’s good when the wind doesn’t stab me,

Piercing through my hopes and my tired bones,

It’s nice to have a personal coffee mug’,

The first year you may resist,

Surviving the deepest snow,

You winter somehow in a snowdrift of your choice,

Buying shivers to your hopes,

In spring you are nearly free,

Because he is always near,

The red dot sensation is in your back,

His loving gaze pulls a trigger’,

I am your sacrifice,

I’m only halfway to the door,

The doorbell confuses love with obsession,

 I already feel a red dot between my shoulder blades,

It is your love,

You’ve come to gun me down,

You’ll ask me the same question.

 

Inspired by snow queens

 

 

XXLove letters

 

 

Date When we had many children,

 

 

My thoughts used to melt in your hands,

On your lips,

Like sugar in your coffee,

It hasn’t snowed yet,

This year winter came on time,

Like it used to come,

Only coffee doesn’t taste like it used to taste,

  The same coffee, the same spoon of sugar,

It doesn’t taste like childhood,

It doesn’t taste like celebration,

It doesn’t taste like nonchalance,

 

It doesn't taste like love,

They have just waked up,

They scream ‘You are colder than the snow queen,

It is very cold,

This year winter came shamelessly early,

 

And you are talking nonsense’,

They know that music happens,

Only when God laughs,

Faith is abundant light,

Not wearing sun protection,

Money is nothing,

Air is toxic,

They call eternity by its nickname,

They know for sure what others guess,

They don’t know the power gravity has,

It can’t be fought with violin bows,

They believe fiddlesticks are swords,

They believe in their strength,

They eat always with tuning forks,

  They use music sheets like napkins,

Those were custom-made,

They think napkin rings are jewels,

They are the face of my life,

They are its summary, its sense and its unbroken mirror,

All angels get released,

Just with one glance at the sky,

Sliding down the staircase railing,

What happy midgets,

They wave their legs in the air,

They can tear the heavenly prison to colors,

Angels start working at once,

Only with their presence,

They paint all saints’ halos,

They never speak about what yesterday I lost,

They speak only about what I will find,

I like a new sound,

They go out to bury a cat,

It is in the shoe box,

It’s a frozen rag doll,

The mouth is half-open,

I warn ‘It is too late,

Make no noise in the hour of the cat’,

They comfort me ‘Mom, it’s OK. Don’t cry. It died last night. We’ll take the best care of death,

You were the best teacher,

Don’t worry,

What we should do,

We know’,

They are too wonderful,

They won’t be like us,

They are not us,

No,

I pin all my hopes on them,

My hopes are always light,

Also they are much colder than snow.

 

 

 

 

The particular letter is inspired by incomparable Vivien Leigh’s performance in a Streetcar Named Desire created by one of the greatest Maestro of a typewriter.  Especially by the final scene ‘I have always depended on the kindness of strangers’. Blanche represents one very peculiar kind of people  I always fail to understand. Too fragile and too vulnerable. Since life isn’t beach, it occasionally puts them in the environment that  is inhabited by other kinds among which there are species that can hardly be called ‘human’. It’s so painful to watch. Thank God there are no many people like Blanche.  I always have an invincible desire to say ‘Enough’ and to re-make them. In moments like these I wish I was God.

 

XXLove letters

 

X

 

Date When my heart could afford a cheap hug

 

 

Sometimes everything is upside down,

 

I need one hug,

 

And I don’t need to explain,

 

One touch that isn’t formal,

 

It’s not out of obligation,

 

It’s not even erotic,

 

A stranger’s lips may make it perfect,

 

 It is a trustful delusion,

 

The cessation of breath that lasts only one night,

 

 Yesterday I woke up,

 

And felt almost happy,

 

He was still sleeping right next to me,

 

Yesterday morning he violated his morning habit,

 

He didn’t vanish like the Holy Spirit,

 

After he tasted the flavor of smoke,

  

Superman didn’t do,

 

What the director said him to do,

 

He crawled out of bed and almost vanished,

 

When he was properly covered in cloth,

 

I didn’t try to be nice,

 

I have good manners,

 

I offered him coffee and a croissant,

 

It means we both did our best,

 

Loneliness was lucky,

 

The moment he said ‘yes’,

 

Our night expired,

 

Our days were ready to start,

 

No complications though,

 

Few compliments were hired,

 

When I first met him,

 

I took a quick glance at his hair,

 

His hair part was perfect,

 

I instantly knew,

 

He ambitiously thought,

 

He was a nighttime god,

 

We enjoyed our coffee together,

 

Without sharing thoughts,

 

It was one hour of falsification,

 

He was a pocket version,

 

A miniature of you,

 

He was a poltergeist,

 

I had the entire life to enjoy after he happily left,

 

Don’t forget being well-mannered,

 

Good manners sometimes help,

 

It’s how I spend yesterday night,

 

One-night stand with a self-lover,

 

No complications,

 

I guess,

 

We will see in the end,

 

It’s how I killed one more today morning,

 

We couldn’t spend together,

 

Now my typical old apartment is again a posh classic eight,

 

Overcrowded with my creatures,

 

In a literal and a figurative sense,

 

They dance on the windowsill,

 

They mime snowflakes twirling and falling,

 

The jump among my thoughts,

 

Falling out of my head,

 

The winter sky glows.