I could be yours
you could be mine

it's difficult to complain to you about anything
i didn't have to leave my country behind
i don't know what it's like to be hungry
i didn't start in a new country, where i didn't speak the language, all by myself at 14

but i know i also struggle
that my pain is real too
i wish we could share our pain and grow together in it

but i can't talk about it
to most people, never mind you
maybe i'm scared that my problems aren't big enough
or maybe i'm scared that saying them out loud confirms what i already know
that i'm broken

i feel like i know you and we've only just met.
i want to dive in deeper,
i want to let you see the dark and sad places in me.
to let you see the bright and shiny places too.

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.

I want you.
To whisper my name.
To run your fingers through my hair.
To kiss the nape of my neck.
To lick me off your lips.

To allow me to live in your thoughts forever.

I want to get lost in something.
Forget where I am, forget how I’m supposed to be.
I want to get knocked over by waves.
I want to be drenched in the rain.
I want to feel it all but nothing at all.
I want to be insignificant.