listentoyourself, postcards

Postcards #18 from those dark places

I was broken today
only open for those dark places
that absorb the light

this is where I go
down and inside
to meet my demons
of no place and no time.

Desires live here
of who I can’t be
those of “never been”s
and “won’t ever”s, no.

And pain. I see her and
I molt skin after skin
till I am more naked
than the wind.

She holds my eyes
her touch is soft
she asks
what would happen


I would see this me
through her eyes
locked up in invisible
chains of form and mind

as if there was
to be

then the wind blew
then came the rain
and I was gone.


This is the second version of a really beautiful poem which for internet connection failures and because I didn’t save it, is gone. Maybe it was too much and this second version is better. I wouldn’t know.

18 days of postcards, and Catalan, through travels and places. That’s where we are.


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