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And some sleeping beauties
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Category Archives: nature
It is always here
No matter how far I travel
No matter how many strangers I have met
This is here my home
It is always here
As it is always you
The beauty elsewhere
The excitement elsewhere
The novelty elsewhere
My distraction could be a second even a minute
It is always here
And it is always you
In the end
Wondering
June with the temperature of October
Leaves turn yellow
In doubts
Wonder what happens to them
Would I ask the same question
If you never came back
The unique landscape
This view never fails me
Our story either
I trust the sun
Powerful yet silken sun
I have found the right words
I have located the exact feelings
I have shaped the exact form
Sun like this
Let me know exactly what I need to know
I love you
Until the last ray of sun
Disappears by the end of the day
I still have a simple certainty
Things between us will always end in laughs anyway
Trust the sun
To dry out the tears
If tears ever come one day
I have found the right words today
I love you
And I trust the sun
Spring
You are exactly like
How I like you
Clear and limpid
Blossoming in energy
Promising in hopes
Dazzling in beauty
What is left to do…
I am officially depressed.
What is left to do is to collect all the snow flakes, keep them preciously in a box in a perfect temperature so they cannot melt and give them to you in summer.
What is left to do is to count my footsteps on the snow and be sure that it would be less than a billion of them until I reach you.
What is left to do is to close my eyes and be sure that your shadow will always dazzle in the dark.
What is left to do is to wallow on the snow and be sure that only the heat of my heart can save me from the cold.
What is left to do is to eviscerate myself before the feeling of missing you would empty me anyway.
I am officially depressed or I love you into depression.
How can I know ?
(Painting of Edvard Munch “The Day After” , National Museum of Oslo)
Do you love him that much ?
I take a walk
I distance myself
I protect myself
Not from you
But from me
Winter in me prolongs
Spring in me slows to come
Summer in me is mystery
Your smile cannot get the snow to melt
I look at you and ask myself:
“Do you love him that much?”
I guess the answer is still yes
But why then winter never ends
Do I love you that much?
To not fear winter
To live in no season
In timeless longings
Will you be there to mend
The fragile non-existing spring of my heart?
My birthday
Today is my birthday
A bit of sun
A bit of clouds
A bit of me
Wiser
A lot of me
Happier
All of me
Older
Sure thing
PS: In this picture, I had no food for the ducks so when I tried to get closer to them, they just walked away from me. I hope this is not the way I will have to chase for happiness in real life. Exchanging things for happiness ? No – I hope not…;-)
Let me think
In the past – In the last year I said that loving you is self-redemption. You had saved me. Somehow. In the lost path of mine scattered with insignificant feelings. Then you came. Offering me a new world. Renewing my soul.
This morning I woke up with the most awkward, terrifying thought. Do I still need to love you now that I am self-redeemed, now that I am saved?
Not that I am an ungrateful person. Not that you had saved me then we are almost done. Loving you the last past year had proved to me how capable I could love, how intense I could become when I fell in love.
It made sense to me but then it’s fading. The love and you. So airy. So light. So distant. Suddenly that thought: And if I don’t love you anymore?
Could it be gone the love? Or it is just temporary? Let me think. Usually I don’t think when it comes to love you. Now I have to think to feel. Usually I just feel.
What happened to me ? Is it the cold ? Is it the long winter? Is it because of all the trips far away from home? Is it because I feel so free?
Is it possible that I don’t love you anymore ? Just like that. The self-redemption stays with me forever. Is the love gone ?
Let me think. Let me think. Let me think.
I still want to love you. I just don’t feel it. Today. This damn morning of winter.
