© Laura Makabresku
My midriff hurts, with a twinge peculiar, that has its roots under my skin. It trembles and agitates together my entire body. My eyes are blurry, my breath is heavy and when I close my eyes, alive images come out in the open, in front of me, so alive that make me to confused. In which life am I living?
But when somebody starts suspecting, even the slightest of what’s in my mind, I wear my brightest smile, I open my eyes and stare him with all the feigned honesty I could posibly find. And I start to laugh. And when I see that he has believed me, I turn my gaze away and continue the laughing sound, careful not to show that I bursted into tears.
Miles away and memories draw white lines on blue sky and the road you are following will be lost in a blink even if the plane continues its journey away from me. And the memories will be lost, and the memory will fade away. Here is the deepest secret that noone knows and noone will ever steal from me. I carry your heart, I carry it in my heart. Even if you don’t like poetry.
I can’t help but wondering what will our lives as one look like. If we could be something more that two random notes on a pentagram that happened to meet, for an unknown reason, just to show perhaps that the perfect harmony exists. But then, the pages of my notebook were over such as the ink from my pen. My imagination stopped being inexhaustible and had no music left to spare.
And you are far away now and I am a dreamer who loves imagining what is hidden behind your melodic murmur, as you pack to be lost again along the horizon, following your white lines on the sky. Again and again like a perpetual repetition without the slightest of reason.
Your coat is so heavy that if we were together in your frozen land, I would have sneaked inside of it, close to your warm body. And if we were in mine, sunny and bright, I would have taken your hand and shown you all my islands. One for every blush of my cheeks, one for every dream on the white sheets, one for the notes you are searching for and an other one and an other one, and on and on. Voracious journeys in tropical seas..
Words lost in translation and chances flew away long ago. Viraha, the realisation of love through separation. Or maybe Mamihlapinatapei, the shared looked of desire between two people too shy to make the first move. Or even Dor, the sense of longing when separated from that which you love.
It’s all because of you.
How could I know? Koi No Yokan, when you meet someone and you know you are destined to fall in love..
I am sorry I will hush now. I was never good in that after all..
© Laura Makabresku
They say everyman goes blind in his heart
And they say everybody steals somebody’s heart away
And I got nothing more to say about it
Nothing more than you would me