Daily Archives: September 7, 2010

I Do Not Love You Except Because I Love You

I do not love you except because I love you;
I go from loving to not loving you,
From waiting to not waiting for you
My heart moves from cold to fire.

I love you only because it’s you the one I love;
I hate you deeply, and hating you
Bend to you, and the measure of my changing love for you
Is that I do not see you but love you blindly.

Maybe January light will consume
My heart with its cruel
Ray, stealing my key to true calm.

In this part of the story I am the one who
Dies, the only one, and I will die of love because I love you,
Because I love you, Love, in fire and blood.

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April 18

the slime of all my yesterdays
rots in the hollow of my skull

and if my stomach would contract
because of some explicable phenomenon
such as pregnancy or constipation

I would not remember you

or that because of sleep
infrequent as a moon of greencheese
that because of food
nourishing as violet leaves
that because of these

and in a few fatal yards of grass
in a few spaces of sky and treetops

a future was lost yesterday
as easily and irretrievably
as a tennis ball at twilight

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Whatif

Last night, while I lay thinking here,
some Whatifs crawled inside my ear
and pranced and partied all night long
and sang their same old Whatif song:
Whatif I’m dumb in school?
Whatif they’ve closed the swimming pool?
Whatif I get beat up?
Whatif there’s poison in my cup?
Whatif I start to cry?
Whatif I get sick and die?
Whatif I flunk that test?
Whatif green hair grows on my chest?
Whatif nobody likes me?
Whatif a bolt of lightning strikes me?
Whatif I don’t grow talle?
Whatif my head starts getting smaller?
Whatif the fish won’t bite?
Whatif the wind tears up my kite?
Whatif they start a war?
Whatif my parents get divorced?
Whatif the bus is late?
Whatif my teeth don’t grow in straight?
Whatif I tear my pants?
Whatif I never learn to dance?
Everything seems well, and then
the nighttime Whatifs strike again!

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inboxul inimii tale

imi place sa ma joc cu tine, intotdeauna mi-a placut
imi place sa ma joc cu sufletul tau atat de dens, curat, frumos
imi place forma pe care o imbraci cand te asezi langa mine
aceeasi culoare ca mine, sa nu te uit undeva, sa nu te strivesc cumva
imi place gandul tau copilaresc care-mi traverseaza linia urechilor si-mi sopteste:

stiu si alte jocuri

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destul de moale destul de

nu stiu ce varsta am
de ce beau pisatul asta de dimineata
de ce`mi sta fusta bine pe solduri astazi
de ce ma uit cu ochii incercanati dupa figura ta comuna
nu stiu daca merita drumul asta pana la tine
toti banii mei
daca am sa invat sa plang din nou cand soarele pufneste enervat
daca am sa-mi cumpar alti pantofi doar pentru ca
e toamna
nu stiu cand am sa traversez strada asta si nici
unde duce

nu stiu daca-mi place cartea asta
si daca ar trebui sa stau dupa fiecare paragraf
o vesnicie sa-l mestec intre dintii

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Phallus.

You stab into me.
Release, but no peace.

I fight the Monolith with
angry, moist folds of my soul.

How can you understand me when you are so dense,
how can you see me with but one eye?

You propel forward
ever restless
ever relentless
but the answer is right beside you.

I circle round with my engorged thoughts,
with my languid lust

but you can’t fuck me
because I’m already fucked.

You can’t fuck me
because I’m already fucked.

You can’t fuck me because
I’m already fucked.

You can’t fuck me because I’m
already fucked.

You can’t fuck me because
I’m already fucked!

YOU CAN’T FUCK ME BECAUSE I’M ALREADY FUCKED

YOU CAN’T FUCK ME BECAUSE I’M ALREADY FUCKED!!!!!

You can’t find me because
I’m already lost.

You can’t teach me because
I’m already gone.

But if you love me
I will fall into your arms.

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