i guess it's good that you're never here. because it's given me the opportunity to fall back in love with some of my past loves that my obsession stole from me.
holding a book feels a lot like holding a lover. i don't just hold it, you see. i gently run my finger along the edges of the pages, i take in its scent as if it could cure me of every single thing that pains me, i touch each word to see if they feel any differently, and when i'm done reading it
i don't toss it aside with disdain the way you do me. i place it on my chest, i let it feel my warmth and my beating heart and i let it stay right there until i cannot bear to be away from the beautiful pages of my lover anymore. so i open it and only then do i realize how much i truly missed it, how graceful the pages look when they are turned, how it fits in my hand so perfectly, how it fills all of the empty places inside me. but to the book, i never left, my beating heart was always there

I do not love you as if you were salt-rose, or topaz,
or the arrow of carnations the fire shoots off.
I love you as certain dark things are to be loved,
in secret, between the shadow and the soul.

I love you as the plant that never blooms
but carries in itself the light of hidden flowers;
thanks to your love a certain solid fragrance,
risen from the earth, lives darkly in my body.

I love you without knowing how, or when, or from where.
I love you straightforwardly, without complexities or pride;
so I love you because I know no other way

than this: where I does not exist, nor you,
so close that your hand on my chest is my hand,
so close that your eyes close as I fall asleep.

There are days when I swear I am a hundred feet tall.
And then there are days when I swear the world has slipped out
      from underneath my feet.
God help me be enough for me
Because I can't keep ******* in water every time I try to breathe.

My skies are always
so clearly blue when they're not
obscured by the night.

I'll let darkness in
if you promise to fill it
with endless starlight.

freezing girl wonders
"what is interesting
and is it better than happy"
and i say
"always
but dear,
be boring if you can"

last night
I saw  my mother in my dreams
she was travelling with me/
in a train
and she shown me something
outside the window
as I  was trying to understand
and I  moved my head,
a movement saying yes, yes, yes
but  I was wondering /
what my mother said to me /
following her finger
outside the window
as the  brise air /
caress her  foggy face  

μου έδειχνε
τον περασμένο χρόνο

βήματα αβέβαια,
μπουσούλισμα,
τρεμουλιαστά τρεξίματα
ματιές με χρόνο άπειρο
αναζήτηση αγκαλιάς
ζεστασιά αιώνια
στόμα που ανοίγει αχόρταγο για ήχους
καρδιά που σφυροκοπά
και βγαίνει ώρες ώρες από τα στηθάκια
γυρίζει το κεφάλι  και κοιτά
ακούει  τον χτύπο/σχεδόν τον βλέπει
μόνο το αίμα δεν φαίνεται/
ζαλίζεται γελά και κλαίει/
μαγεύεται και αφήνεται
σε κούνια αγκαλιά/ σε χέρια  στιβαρά/
εκρήγνυται από  αγάπη και  
λέει μαααμαααα  


Μαρία Panoutsou

1135

Too cold is this
To warm with Sun—
Too stiff to bended be,
To joint this Agate were a work—
Outstaring Masonry—

How went the Agile Kernel out
Contusion of the Husk
Nor Rip, nor wrinkle indicate
But just an Asterisk.