I want you to know
one thing.

You know how this is:
if I look
at the crystal moon, at the red branch
of the slow autumn at my window,
if I touch
near the fire
the impalpable ash
or the wrinkled body of the log,
everything carries me to you,
as if everything that exists,
aromas, light, metals,
were little boats
that sail
toward those isles of yours that wait for me.

Well, now,
if little by little you stop loving me
I shall stop loving you little by little.

If suddenly
you forget me
do not look for me,
for I shall already have forgotten you.

If you think it long and mad,
the wind of banners
that passes through my life,
and you decide
to leave me at the shore
of the heart where I have roots,
remember
that on that day,
at that hour,
I shall lift my arms
and my roots will set off
to seek another land.

But
if each day,
each hour,
you feel that you are destined for me
with implacable sweetness,
if each day a flower
climbs up to your lips to seek me,
ah my love, ah my own,
in me all that fire is repeated,
in me nothing is extinguished or forgotten,
my love feeds on your love, beloved,
and as long as you live it will be in your arms
without leaving mine

How drunk are we?
How much do we regret?
If love is the answer.
How much did we forget?
If it’s magic,
How much can we learn?
If a magician never shows their secret,
then who do we burn?

Thoughts flutter through my mind
and nest in the holes of my memory
I don't get to choose where they go
but whether or not I find them

Curious, the way the seasons find their home in everything.
Perilous, the way the coldest frost of winter always comes.
Maddening, the way that frost will always melt in time for spring.
Saddening, the way the heat must always leave and make you fall.

with all his strength and power he calls to me,
as enticing as ever.
his skinny frame taunting me,
filling my head with thoughts
magical and dangerous.
I reach out to grab him-pull him closer-
but my fingers pass through like a ghost.
and even though I know
we can never be together
I allow myself to dream of
the promises he makes,
the ever-unknown world he lives in.

Silent steps
Then a moan of pain
And a stream of angry words.
Not again, you think
But it would seem
The phantom
is back.
Give up the sense of hearing
If only you'd never again hear them
Make that noise.
Cut the strings soon
But let them hang comfortably.
Would they prefer to be hanged together?
For the first time
In many years
He cried.
Because just when you think
The world is beautiful
You realize that
It's beautiful
In an ugly way.
Maybe you're not apathetic
Because it breaks you
to see her hurt.
to see him hurt.
to be hurt.