Lucia Artly

Lucia Artly Jul 2013

Just some moments ago,
You were sleeping next to me in the sun,
You were kissing
my eye,
my nose,
my lips,
my ears
my hands,
taking all of me, all my air chained to your breath.

You were flying with me to the sea,
Immaterial fog surrounding us.

A dream, a dream, a wonderful dream of August,
About some seconds long.

Lucia Artly Dec 2012

Reality?

I say: be mine,
And you say: I'm yours,
So... you are mine?...Really mine?

I want you,
And you want me,
Is this really happening?

We kiss,
We share love...
Is it the real love?

WOW WOW WOW
If this is real
Then we are the happiest people that lived
In this world.

Yeeey!

Lucia Artly Dec 2012

Tue Dec 11

Now.
My life.
My head. My thoughts.
My eyes. White, black, colors.
My arms. My gestures.
All of me.
What am I?
I am old? I am young? This isn't something to think about.
You are me. A little part. That part that reads what I write now.
That part that understands me. We feel together connected in some way.
You there, me here.
I am you. How is this possible?
Maybe if we meet we could be less connected than now.
But now we are. Now is the moment. Feel it, enjoy it, make it an eternity.

I feel almost love, at least I think I do. I don't know what is it.
Maybe you know. Then, tell me.

Lucia Artly Dec 2012

Oh, my dear

Left you behind the shadow of your sins,
Right where you belong.
Step by step I crawl far away from you;
My steps - like the cancer walk.

Now, even if you do have the soul for me,
I don't have the soul for you. You ate it.
So what that I still think of you?
This is your argument, your joy?

You are lost - your name - Wandering.
I lost - wondering about you - what a joy in the labyrinth!
How my soul was laughing...oh, my dear.

Wait for me, you need me... this is too late, darling.

Lucia Artly Sep 2010

Stupid poem, stupid me, handicapped heart of mine (do you even care?)

Where are you?
I don't feel you.

You are in another place,
in another love?
I don't find you.

Maybe is my fault,
Maybe you are busy...

Maybe (sure) this isn't a poem,
but i wish that it could be,
Because i feel so bad,
That i write stupid poems
(bad as my state of heart)

I did nothing wrong,
You did nothing wrong,
But this feeling is so wrong...

Take me back to you,
I promise I'll be happy
and you will be too.

My Darling.

— The End —