Dear Maya
One awakens with the sun
One awakens with the moon
Candles shall be lightened
and melodies shall come soon…
The Rituals of today
in transcended time,
Transfigured spaces
that once I called “mine”
While the roses spring
outside my window
I observe
the flow of marbled creatures
who once had the nerve
to dare a nurturing mother
unaware of her despair—
I talk to the lonely star
and to the roots I have planted
and watered with my salty tears
I wander through mirrors
and cristals
in a dance of embraced fears
My feet
touching a foreign soil
trembling to the incessant beat
forget that they had forgotten
of our planted seed.
***
To being alive
I love you. Not every moment but for the most part.
I would know so much more about you if only being sheltered by a home wasn’t conditional.
Can you imagine, being sheltered with no need to redistribute whatever little you have to a private owner? Yes, I would love you more if you weren’t perennially under threat of being extinguished by the cold, or warmth, or dirt waiting for me on the other side of any minor mistake most of us could make, many of us will make.
I would love you more and I would use you to my liking. If only that thing called democracy existed in all realms of life and we weren’t at the whim of a few people. I don’t care who these few people are. I don’t care how politically correct their persona is. I don’t even really care that they’re all ‘white men’. I care that power is in their hands only. It hasn’t been put there by a broken system, it has been put there by a fundamentally unequal system. If it wasn’t them, it’d be somebody else and the difference for the many, for us, would be pathetically marginal. We should be able to decide what we do with our time, with you, if we wanna have a chance at loving you more, at knowing what you even mean.
I would feel safer about you if I wasn’t always afraid of existing as a client, or as a burdensome number on an embarrassingly long list, waiting to get treated for anything I could potentially suffer from that, while solvable if caught early, could separate me from you forever if caught late. But the priority is to fill the pockets of a few people: and so we’re no longer patients, we’re clients.
I would be thrilled if I could know you without knowing that so many are without you because a piece of land was useful to the few. Because there are yachts in Monte Carlo while in Gaza everybody grieves someone very dear to them who has been deprived of you. Ultimately they were murdered serving the few’s ability to pay for a couple more yachts, that of course save none of the lives deprived of you in the Mediterranean Sea.
I would know so much more about you if that didn’t mean growing the over 30,000 pound debt I already owe to a government for wanting to learn. I want to know all about you, because I love you and I think you are worth all of your bad parts. But I cannot possibly devote my time to learn about you when having you not slip from my fingers is no guarantee.
I love you but I know I’d love you more if you were only the very beginning, no the end goal, of my days, of our days. You shouldn’t cost this much. A few people, whoever the fuck they are, shouldn’t get to decide about you.
Be free,
Ti
It’s okay to make mistakes. It’s okay to be hated. It’s okay to be loved. Nothing is wrong and you are right. Your place isn’t deemed by others; don’t let them trap you. You were destined for great things so allow this letter to receive you well.
B R E A T H E.
All in abundance.
Pray for what you want and discard all bullshit.
Let your past be your past; let your future guide you.
222,
From your love,
The universe.
***
Dear Culture,
I love you , although I don’t think you love me back.
You sometimes are violent.
You murder women.
You kill black people.
You kill queer people.
My people.
You violate rights
and lands
and nature…
Yet you can also be so precious.
That’s why I know you can be better.
For we’re one,
I am part of you as much as you are a part of me.
I will reconstruct you to be kinder,
lovelier,
more humaine
above anything.
I will take those things that nourish me,
and discard the customs that harm me
and the people I care for.
And together we’ll create a lovelier future.
***
Dear planet Earth,
I’m so thankful and inspired to have existed in you. You’re a wonder of the Universe so inexplicable in your existence that no one can truly understand you. You are so vast and diverse in every way possible so filled with mysteries and at the same time simplicities that make you unique. You are a harborer of life in every form and you create and make life possible. You are the home of so many different living things. You are infinite and at the same time so scarily finite. You are so powerful that is terrifying but unexplainably we trust you so blindly. I love you so deeply it hurts and I am constantly in awe of your wonders. Thank you for being our most wonderful home.
Forever, C 🙂
The angel of love has marked us all.
We are the carefully chosen lot, who’re in love with our fetishes. The plum lipped women and provocative eyed men. Our secrets are our greatest treasure and behind fine beards and silky curves, we’re still nature’s child onboard, a rollercoaster of sensual madness.
The most eminent delights come from breaking through the limits imposed on us with the kinkiest thoughts that arouse our intellect.
We’re the enemy of all regularity,
the worshippers of the slightest disorder,
the silent backdoors of religion, society, virtue and decency,
We are a voyage of passion,
we idolise anything that bears the garb of pleasure.
We’re indeed sad generation with happy pictures or May be
just a bunch of men and women,
drunk on the idea of love!
***
It’s been too long since I’ve written to you. I never bother sending them anyways; like you always say, I am a big baby and I guess I lack the courage to tell you these things. Things like sometimes I catch a glimpse of you fully- head and shoulders and legs altogether- and I see what makes the mountains so majestic and haunting. Things like when the sun hits yours skin and you’re in my line of sight, I feel myself sinking deeper into the pool and I think there’s rebirth approaching.
I used to write to you before we let ourselves in on this secret and I hated not knowing who you truly were; I realize I’ll never know and I’m glad. I get to meet you every day for the first time, I have been given the rare opportunity to love someone ever-evolving. You’re like the mushrooms you always talk about- how they’ve been around for billions of years and communicate with each other in a way we humans have been unable to decipher. You’ve completely rewired every neural highway in my mind and brought me back to some place that’s too familiar but has no physical form or name that we could brand onto ourselves- just a place that’s ours and the Universe’s.
I am sick with love; my stomach is hurting, my heart’s racing, and I can’t focus my eyes anywhere past your mouth. You lay snoring next to me and I feel tears forming- there is no hiding from the grace of God and in the presence of divinity, a wave of emotions comes to drown me. I wish you’d drag me deeper and deeper into the currents, that I may never return to this desert and instead into your promised land.
You are everything I read. You are the very language of my heart and I have only ever known you. You are every song, every movie, every art piece in every museum; every tree and every rock, every gust of wind, every scorching summer day and rainy winter night. The heavens bow to you, you are the very thing I worship; I used to think I had lost touch with God but I truly hadn’t known divinity until you popped into my life.
The first time I saw you you were wearing a bright yellow jacket in the early morning sun; and I’ll never forget wishing you would bump into me because even then I needed you.
After that first kiss under my lemon tree, crescent moon and police sirens to cheer us on, I knew I’d never make it out of this alive. But I was wrong, because I did not breath air for the first time until that very moment our lips collided. You are the very essence of life, my love.
And so really, all I want to tell you is thank you for the stars and the dirt and the tornado inside my chest. Thank you for kissing me and holding me and crying with me. Thank you for hands and for your teeth and for your curious little mind. The sun rises and sets for you, darlin.
I’m not good at endings so goodnight and whatnot. I’ll love you when I die and beyond that. I’ll find a word or phrase or spell or image that’ll surpass ‘I love you’ because it is not enough anymore. And fuck, please remember to eat and be kinder to yourself or else we’re going to have some real problems.
Sleep tight, Moose.
Yours, Goose
***
Come with every wound and every person you’ve ever loved,
come with every lie you’ve ever told and whatever is it,that keeps you up at night, every mouth you’ve punched in, all the blood you’ve ever tasted.
Come with every hard lesson that you’ve ever learnt, all the family you’ve ever buried; every drink that’s burnt your throat and every morning that you have woken up with nothing and no one.
Come with all your loss, your regrets, sins, memories, blackouts.
For, I’ve never seen anything more beautiful than you.
I briefly remember as I woke up in sweat,
with terror running down my spine.
I remember tracing those scars that came with haunted memories
as if they were attached closely together.
I remember when wrinkled petals
caught my attention more than the flowers
my mother would arrange at the centre table,
“They spread positivity” she would always say.
I’d think about that a lot.
Sometimes I would spend hours
admiring the colours, the textures,
I’d hold them close to me but I never understood
what it was that my mother found so beautiful.
I guess that’s what happens when you
fall in love with things that don’t have a heartbeat.
I’d revolve myself around the words of Blyton and Austen,
an escape where everything seemed planned,
where everyone’s destiny was under my fingertips.
I felt safe.
The softness of the rug gently caressing my body,
green tea that always seemed to taste a tad bit too bitter
for my wannabe aesthetic soul to admit,
I guess what I’m trying to say is,
my world was a whirlpool of emotions and
my heart a dormant volcano.
The sitcoms I’d spent my nights with tried bringing
this damned heart alive, but I realised that no matter
how weird Pheobe would get
or how bizarre Peraltas brain would work,
they never could make me laugh hard enough
to really wake me up.
Sigh, until one day this little world of mine got hit so hard.
I guess it was the first time in months
I felt the sun kiss my skin.
I felt the sweetness of whipped cream melting in my mouth.
I felt tears running down my cheeks
but this time the pain resonating in my stomach
made me feel alive.
I saw as the rain hit the windshield so hard
it felt as if it was mimicking my heart beat.
I began to feel love when your dark caramelised eyes
that cringed at the idea of caramel popcorn,
smile at me while I forced you to give it a shot.
When holding hands while walking down the street
was the last thing you’d do and now somehow
I always find your fingers lingering around mine.
When every time you spotted a yellow car
your mind would think of me.
When every cute vintage store filled your mind with my aroma.
When every lily made you smile brighter than the last.
I could go on but I love keeping you my little secret.
You’re too precious for this world to know.
But I could reveal you in small metaphors
in hopes that I could be your reason too.
// A letter to the one who made me feel again
***
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