It was all a dream

It's okay, I tell myself,
I guess it was never meant to be.
All I hope is I am gone before you read this
Because I couldn't stand to watch you break
under the burden of my love.

Material Girl

Poate de-aia ne atașăm de obiecte. Are și materialismul o explicație logică. Obiectele nu ne înșală. Nu ne trădează încrederea. Nu se prefac a fi ceva ce nu sunt de fapt. Spre deosebire de oameni, se pot repara sau înlocui cu ușurință dacă se strică.

Let's just get this out in the open

by Daphne Gottlieb

I was 14 and madly in love for the first time. He was 21. He made me suddenly, unaccustomedly beautiful with his kisses and mix tapes. During the year of elation and longing, he never mentioned that he had a girlfriend who lived across the street. A serious girl. A girl his age. A girl he loved. Unlike inappropriate, high school, secret me. 

The next time, I was 15 visiting a friend at college. It was a friend’s friend’s boyfriend who looked like Jim Morrison and wore leather pants and burned candles and incense. She was at work and I wanted him to touch me. She found out. I don’t know what happened after that.

I was 19 and he was my boyfriend’s archrival. I was 20 and it was my lover’s girlfriend and we had to lie because otherwise he always wanted to watch. I was 24 and her girlfriend knew about it but then changed her mind about the open relationship. We saw each other anyway. I was 30 and we wanted each other but were committed to other people; the way we look at each other still scorches the walls. I turned thirty-something and pointedly wasn’t invited to a funeral/ a wedding/ a baby shower because of a rumor. 

I am a few years older now and I know this: There are tastes of mouths I could not have lived without; there are times I’ve pretended it was just about the sex because I couldn’t stand the way my heart was about to burst with happiness and awe and I couldn’t be that vulnerable, not again, not with this one.  That waiting to have someone’s stolen seconds can burn you alive. That the shittiest thing you can do in the world is lie to someone you love; also that there are certain times you have no other choice – not honoring this fascination, this car crash of desire, is also a lie. [cliché] That there is power in having someone risk everything for you. That there is nothing more frightening than being willing to take this free fall. That it is not as simple as we were always promised. Love – at least the pair-bonded, prescribed love – does not conquer all.

Arrow, meet heart. Apple, meet Eve.   

Here then, I hope, are stories, poems and essays about the way it really breaks down, about what desire does to us, about what happens when we’re incandescent but are not allowed to be, about what we look like when we adore, and, in the end, what it cost.

(emphasis mine) 

11:11

It's 11:11
and I'm not making wishes anymore.
New Year's fireworks,
first taste of cherry blood this year,
dandelions, shooting stars, eyelashes, ladybugs,
and let's not forget the fuckin' birthday candles,
And all my wishes were one.
But you ... you were not to come
true.

11:12
—hmph....

Tick-Tock

Lași să curgă printre degete nisipul clepsidrei
deși-ar fi trebuit deja să știi că e mai prețios ca aurul
Mă dezlipești de tine
--autocolant de duzină--
Cât te aștepți să te aștept?

Îmi vor crește din nou aripile
pe care le-ai ars cu focul pasiunii tale
Și mă întreb dacă vei fugi de mine sau spre mine
și dacă va mai fi vreo diferență
sau dacă vei privi resemnat
la ce-ar fi fost dac-ar fi fost să fie
plecând umerii sub greutatea detaliilor
continuând să târâi lanțuri
ce îți legi singur de picioare.

Te-nvârți în cercuri concentrice
spre eșafodul ce așteaptă în centru
Dorința se topește în vis
iar visul în fum
amar de țigară
scrum

Photo by Kristina Alegro

Caravana trece, pietrele rămân (mai ales cele de la rinichi)

Ți-am mâzgălit numele
în cărbune
pe varul tuturor pereților
Mi-am mânjit iubirea
cu pastă de dinți
pe clanțele tuturor ușilor
mai ales a celei de la intrare
Ți-am lipit chipul pe toate geamurile
pe dinăuntru
pe dinafară
și nu mai râd de cei care odată lipeau inimioara Maggi
așteptând să treacă și pe strada lor pricăjită caravana
poate se capătă și ei cu ceva

Mănânc din nou biscuiți mucezi cu SuperCristal
și nu mă mir de unde am plecat și unde am ajuns

Raw

Vreau să mă sap în tine, dureros, să rămân acolo până la ultimul cuvânt
Să îmi tatuez sărutul pe oasele tale
ca să îți amintești de mine și când nu vei vrea
Să doară după ce voi pleca