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She is my maiden of truth
in the born tissue of nature.
She keeps me shimmering and clean
from the misfortunes of life.
Beautiful to a point when the sun is my sister.
She, who glares seeks answers in me.
I, who have neither time nor breath
will manifest her mortifying mouth and shape.
She stays with me all day, keeps me company,
I adore until he…

He comes only when the sun is set high,
when souls are free and water translucent.
He holds her hand and kisses the lips
that will never be mine.
She sees me yet not.
I see, cannot escape the shades my sister makes in revenge.
I can’t help but see the echo.
I cannot listen to the moans that should have been mine
and the body touched by me, I shatter

The villain leaves her lonesome.
I am to pick up her pieces, be strong for her.
Tell me, is this fair, reflection is my only caress,
she will not grant my wishes…shatter me.
Pain with the withering skies of my cousins,
she’s crying, torture of eye.
Let the leaves go, my friends, comfort me,
am I the only one?
She sits there alone thinking of him while I look at her.
Sometimes she comes close, looks at me and cries,
she touches my chest, I shiver,
I wish my mind could escape and explain all I feel.

On the 13th of snows she looked at me for the last time.
She gave me her blood as she angered and
broke me to pieces. I will never see the whole of her again,
all I see now are bits of a past I longed for…
She never sees me anymore but I adore
and I hear the endless moans of the villain
filling my reflection…
This little light will
guide this boy through
troubles and crashed airplanes.
Amongst these trees,
one will stand out.
Catch attention with
her beautiful red hair and
slim bark, the roots
subside, do not allow
to follow this green boy.
How can she survive
without her roots, to live for
this young boy that is
He walks in silence, within delicate air,
and holds his clouds in his fist, afraid
of letting them go.
He won’t notice as he bares thousands
of knives in his
back and walks with empty pockets.
It is grim to not find an escape, a little
room where all blades vanish
and no pockets exist.
published 2001 in The Pacific Review (vol 19). A magazine of Art & Literature, by the Department of English at California State University, San Bernardino.
I will gently pick up my tea,
and he will tell my fortune
from the leaves.
Trust your heart I’ll say
don’t dance on the lines,
throw away the cards.

Listen to my heart beat,
not the beats!
You need not predict
to find your way here.
Don’t count the stars
to anticipate an answer,
ask me…

Your sign is not your path
these veins are.
Your charms will never
substitute me
as prolific as it might sound.
Hold on to my hand
not my pasts…
Kiss my lips of jewels
and you will need no guidance.
Scribbling that old rhyme on her metasoma,
she doesn’t command the piano anymore,
lost in those gusts that carry the clouds across distant soils

To figure out just how to back track,
forming a new set
of aspiring lungs.

Pale on the horizon, standing tall
she whispers now, continuously
hoping to never become a mother.
20 minuter av frihet känns det
den härliga, kyliga brisen är renande.
Små fåglar delar glädjen av en ny dag.
Solen småtittar genom träden som släpper
små löv som liknar snö.
Trädens vaggnade och vinden påminner mig
om havet. Det känns fridsamt,
Jag vill stanna kvar.

10 minuter kvar av frisk vind som blåser
genom mig, känns helande. Alla tankar
Jag vill stanna kvar.

5 minuter kvar av otrolig harmoni av
öppet sinne for skönhet och inget annat.
Av känslor som flödar genom mig, av att
vara en del av det hela, av att vara
älskad och uppleva detta med all sinnen öppna.

Tiden är ute men jag vill stanna kvar. Nostalgi
“A Fall Moment”

20 minutes of freedom it feels
the wonderful chilly breeze feels cleansing.
Small birds share the joy of a new day.
The sun peeps through the trees that let go
of small leaves that  remind me of snow.
The waddling of the trees and the wind reminds me
of the ocean. It feels peaceful,
I want to remain here

10 minutes of fresh wind that blows
through me, feels mending. All thoughts
I want to remain here

5 minutes left of unimaginable harmony of
an open mind for beauty and nothing else.
Of feelings that flow through me, to be
a part of the whole, to be
loved and experience it with all senses open.

Time is up but I want to remain here. Nostalgia
She crossed herself at the beach,
tied black veil over her
face, these eyes shine, never questioning
the waves, comforting once.
Dips the toes half way then
escapes, this fair mermaid
of moan.

Her hands bare wear the marks
of stones which cast upon
unfaithful skin, innocent
the elders said yet
youth prevails, lust along
with strung fist upon
this fair widow to be.

So she stares out over the
heavens, her oceans, this sea
of doubt where water meets land and
she can still feel the
quiver inside, the embrace,
saliva on her neck.
Never will she let go of her
king of waters and she will yet again
return here.

So the last steps she took, so
far away, yearning for that
never ending path, the
truth, perhaps even the sand.

When either realize
perhaps one day, this wandering
youth will come to sense,
the legacy behind
the sands, the waters
and all those sins…
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