XXLove letters

 

 

 

When we are in love, we are fools,

 

 

Life tells you tales overrun by wicked witches,

Some leave you scars,

Others leave you cakes and memory crumbs,

Some blow out all  your birthday wishes,

Others leave you moments you don’t want to remember,

Others extort your biggest smiles,

 

Some give you a gift of the loudest silence,

They make you crawl and hide inside,

I don’t mind,

I walk in darkness,

Words are brighter than candles,

Beauty is speechless,

Moonlight breathes you by my side,

 

Songs make more sense tonight,

Night is made of whispers,

Day is made of hard work,

Our dream doesn’t belong to us,

It belongs to a mailman,

I’ll write you letters till the end of my eternity,

I am one more unsolved problem in the confused world,

 

I have a spat with my hyenas,

My ego makes much noise,

It’s not me,

My ego gave a promise,

Then it made a decision,

I am a prisoner now,

Of the promise I’ve never made,

 

What a sight unseen,

Of all illusions disillusioned illusions hurt us the worst,

They are the dearest,

They stab and revenge us the most,

How am I supposed to repair a broken necklace,

Half bugle beads are lost,

How am I supposed to patch a hole,

You’ve made in my heart, my ancient ghost,

 

I’ll show you that I’m mad,

I’ll show you that I’m lost,

I’ll show that you are sick without extenuation,

Don’t be afraid I’ll save you from me,

Leaving love in a mailbox,

Someone should have killed prostitute Hope,

You had just to,

Now she’s yours, my gentle gangster.

 

 

XXLove letters

 

 

When we are in pain, we are the best critics of ourselves,

 

 

I contradict fairy tales and magic,

They challenge me,

I accept,

I write what I see around,

Ragged heroes, aged dresses,

What I feel next to my heart,

 

It’s the world where we live,

I hate its monotonous sound,

When Genevieve tears her stockings,

She bursts into tears and pointless cries,

In accusations and heartless complaints,

She says ‘Eternity can’t be found’,

 

Genevieve still lives next door,

Worn by constant use she tries to look like a child,

Nobody has so far solved the mystery of fate,

By dealing with things having limited life span,

By measuring pain in runs in silk stockings,

By taking a good care of a bedside bank account,  

 

If the curtain keeps rising and falling,

Then people will be reborn,

 One day they will fall in love,

Next day will find them quietly crying,

 So that nobody hears,

Repeating the same mistakes is very human,

It’s sadomasochistic crave,

 

A much promising appetizer,

A controversial dessert named ambiguous happy end,

Love is a need, a human right,

Love is a crime committed inside me,

Like a criminal I’m interrogated for being tender,

For being cruel,

For being terribly terrified,

 

Actors come and go,

So nobody gets bored,

Scenery is worn-out,

Any day it will be changed,

A new script will be written,

Waiting to be burnt in candlelight of reason,

Ideas are minced and mingled,

Caught in a whirlpool of thought,

 

Ancient Greeks wrote all scripts,

We only play variations,

Themes always repeat,

Love, hate, jealousy, envy,

Generosity, sacrifice, feat,

We build great walls brick by brick,

We remanufacture idols,

 

What was before Ancient Greece,

The earth was like a pancake,

The people that simply lived not thinking about fate,

They came and went like actors,

Wearing faces masks they had never read the script,

No curtain, no stage, no seats,

They had never met a mysterious usher,

It was real-time entertainment.

 

 

P.S. Always stay addictive.

 

 

XXLove letters

 

 

 

When you couldn’t sleep I told you stories,

 

Godmother doesn’t answer,

Before the Queen’s very eyes the fairy shrinks,

Centuries run faster,

Godmother disappears,

The page boy returns to dust,

Before everything falls apart,

 

Not everything has fallen apart,

In the place where they have just existed,

There is a glass slipper and another chance,

Another song to sing,

Another luck to tame,

Another trip and you are a tripper,

 

Cinderella hastily leaves,

Not paying attention to the glass slipper,

She isn’t interested in another chance,

Calling her name screams come from the palace,

She runs away from her sorrow,
Sorrow is a pain root,

Every day it grows deeper,

 

Five minutes later a sloppily dressed girl goes on stage,

She picks up the glass slipper,

The curtain rises and falls and rises again,

It’s a dirty job to make big dreams come true,

But somebody has to do it,

Illusion is a happiness root,

Every night it grows deeper,

 

When you couldn’t sleep I told you stories,

I read insomnia’s mind,

Cinderella remained the same,

The Prince was forever charming,

But eternity needs repetition,

 In my fairy tales life hated repeating itself,

 

I can’t decide what repetition brings,

Endless hope or endless sorrow,

And ragged clothes covered in soot,

But eternity needs it,

You said ‘It can’t be a fairy tale,

It is a sad story but I believe it,

Because it’s shrewd’.

 

‘It’s a tale for eighteen plus,

I wouldn’t love reading it,

If I was very little,

I don’t feel sorry for Cinderella and the charming Prince,

It’s bad ideals are lost,

In any case I would pick up the glass slipper’,

 

Everyone thinks ‘In my life everything will differ’,

It’s the most common hallucination,

It’s a paradox challenging common sense,

In eternity I see roaming ghosts of hope,

There is a solution to every problem,

If I were Queen Cinderella,

I’d find an old ragged dress and run away from the suffocating me place.

 

XXLove letters

 

 

 

When we were dramatis personae You and I,

 

The Prince lost his charm,

He is the king,

She is the queen missing her soot-covered apron,

Godmother enters the palace,

The page boy carries the fairy’s train,

Godmother loves hiring underage servants,

 

GODMOTHER The King didn’t come home last night,

It happened again,

Tell me the truth, Cinderella.

CINDERELLA My dear auntie, it’s not what you think,

The King has come home at dawn,

The King cares for his faithful subjects,

The King makes the well-being of his kingdom,

 

GODMOTHER Since the old King took off his crown,

The kingdom has changed a lot,

CINDERELLA My dear auntie, I know,

The Prince stopped being Prince Charming,  

He is the King now,

I am the Queen,

And what?

 

An orphan tear rolls down the queen’s cheek,

Her hands fumble the dress,

Cinderella remembers her worn and dirty clothes,

And how happy she was,

 

GODMOTHER My dear goddaughter,

I don’t interfere in your married life,

I hate the fact that you suffer,

I’m upset by the tearful sight,

 

I would punish the King if it wasn’t for subjects,

Every kingdom must have the King,

Even if he does nothing,

Even if he sleeps in somebody’s bed,

He’s just a weak human being,

 

CINDERELLA After the death of the mighty magician,

The King doesn’t travel to the magic land,

He wanders and wanders around,

He is homesick and dangerously sad,

 

The King dyes his facial hair,

A dragon should not see that the King has grown old,

When he sleeps, he shouts ‘Your time is up! F..off!’

 

The King looks for fictitious dragons,

He wants to fight and win,

He refuses to see the dragons that threaten his subjects and my love for him,

 

The King wants to meet a girl, who is sweet, kind and very humble,

I’m not the same,

I’m not the girl I used to be,

I have to rule the kingdom,

I swear like a trooper,

I love him,

He doesn’t see,

 

I feel sorry for him,

He is so unhappy,

Help him, godmother, please,

I’m tired of mending rips in frills of his shirt and his body,

He roams the woods like a wolf,

His reason is six feet deep.

 

 

XXLove letters

 

 

 

When rigor mortis of a soul is winter,

 

 

The morning sky was covered with fleeting clouds,

I didn’t take an umbrella with me,

I wasn’t ready to face torrents of heavenly passions,

I strongly hoped,

If it rained, drops would be weightless,

Staining coats and pavements,

I would hide in a random café and study the art of human mind,

Among other rain refugees,

 

Not looking up, not thinking down I crossed la rue de Dantzig,

Whizzing cars ran like dopey hounds,

The urban landscape changed,

The moment I ran into a giant,

It was sculptor Guillaume,

I was surprised,

You won’t believe me,

He still rent in La Ruche,

It’s the only place where he feels totally free,

 

Desperate sculptors and writers’ shelter,

The paradise of low rent,

Its faithful clients are poets and painters,

It’s a two-story building with the weirdest roof I’ve ever seen,

Piles of sketches are everywhere,

A tub of clay is always handy,

The landlord is the kindest person,

Sometimes he forgets the most hated word,

Here it's ever 'rent',

 

You know one day when we are very old,

We will remember one lawn,

It won’t be green and sunny,

It won’t be neat and well-mowed,

There won’t be a yard swing lulling to sleep in its lap,

Singing a love song to a rose as if it was a bunny,

The common sign of passionate love,

 

You know one day when we are very old,

We will remember one lawn,

Here and there sculptures are scattered,

The second-floor windows are broken,

A violin hums low notes,   

Fallen leaves lie on icy grass,

They are summer nonsense,

Rigor mortis is a winter song,

 

Too many memories,

Too many faces are crammed into my head,

I’m tired to dull my senses,

I go to bed,

The body is cold,

I lie on a bed of nails.