niedziela, 22 grudnia 2013

Say You do...

I had to repeatedly ask him to not to be ashamed of his body . He always looked fearfully if I look at him when he's naked . It was always :
- Turn off the lights .
- Why ?
- Turn them off , please.
- But why?
- Don't you understand ?
I didn't understand . He was probably suspected that when I look at him when he's undressed , I fell something like, that I become richer by all his aches , his suffering , his 'passing away' . I experienced a lot , but it wasn't so important to me compering to what he has been through . No, it's not that, that I shared his suffering with him. Does love needs compassion anyway ? I mean , I felt his existence as my existence . Are you asking what does it mean ? The fact that you like all the burden of one's existence wanted to take as mine . Like you wished release someone from the necessity of living. As if you wanted to die  for that someone , so he don't have his own experience of dying. And this is something more than compassion , as we generally understand . At the same , even if imaginary , the ability to feel , that makes me want to live again . You say it's impossible. It is possible to be impossible.How love  should be the measured ? According to what we would feel ? According to the desires of the body ? The body has an end , and much, much earlier, before death comes.

wtorek, 3 grudnia 2013

Cho Lon

I can see the face. I remember his name.
I can still see the whitewashed walls, curtains which protects us from the heat, doors leading to another room, and the garden in the open air surrounded by a blue railing .
This is a place of distress and disaster.
He ask me to tell him what I think.

The sounds of the city is close . You can hear as it permeating to the room .

I asked him to do it again and again .. It could have been destructive.
You could die from this.
We were deprived of shame. And this is how it happened, that I'm here with him. 
He's on me .
We remain connected , moaning in coming from the outside noise of the city. We can hear it yet. Then we don't hear anything .

He Lit a cigarette and handed it to me. Now comes the evening

She say : I would prefer if you won't love me .
And even if you love me , I wish you could act like usually, when you are with  another women.
He looks aghast, he asks:do you really wish for that ?

She says yes . 
That's when for the first time he started to suffer when it comes to telling the truth.
He says he knows now that She doesn't love him at all. This pain allows him to speak. 
She begs him to act in that way .

He tore her dress and throws it away , then He  carries her on the bed. And then he turns  away and start crying.
And she slowly , patiently turns him towards her , and begins to undress.
She does it with her eyes closed . Slowly . He wants to make the move to help her. But she asks him to not to move. Let me do it, she says . When she asks for it ,she moves her body on the bed , so lightly , as she dont't want to wake him up .

The skin has a wonderful smoothness. Body. The body is flexible , muscular , hard . She didn't look him in the face.
She touch ,caresses the golden color,unknown, new. 
He sighs and cries . In love he's wonderful .
From the beginning there is a pain , then the pain becomes another possesion , transformed , growing slowly , rising toward pleasure, entwined with it.
Then he washed her . Washed his scent , his hands .  

Returns unnoticed feeling of desire. 

Today I know that the sadness was always in me.
I could almost give it my name.
When he died , day was overcast .
I think it was a spring , April maybe
They calling  me.
They don't explain anything except that he was found dead on the floor in his room.
Death ahead the end of the story.
Throughout the year, dusk was falling at the same time . It was very short , almost violent. 
Shadows stood out on the ground and on the water. On the roads and on the walls .
This wonderful image wasn't acceptable for me.

This senseless love , remains a mystery, unfathomable to me . I don't know why I loved him so much that I wanted to die with him, i wanted to share his death. When this happened , I was already a few years away from him and rarely thought of him. It seemed to me that I loved him forever and nothing new could happen to this love.
I forgot about death