Falling.

…Because falling’s not the problem,

when I’m falling I’m at peace -

It’s only when I hit the ground
it causes all the

grief….

Love. Life.

 

 

Jeg glemmer det fra tid til annen.
Vi får bare muligheten en gang.

slik føles det. hele tiden.

Lite for deg.

eit håndtrykk var alt...

det var lite for deg
men mykje for meg;
eit smil når det galdt
og eit håndtrykk var alt

tåre
du tarv ikkje falla
eg veit du er salt

All-encompassing love.

“And I want to play hide-and-seek and give you my clothes and tell you I like your shoes and sit on the steps while you take a bath and massage your neck and kiss your feet
and hold your hand and go for a meal and not mind when you eat my food and meet you at Rudy’s and talk about the day and type your letters and carry your boxes and laugh at your paranoia
and give you tapes you don’t listen to and watch great films and watch terrible films and complain about the radio and take pictures of you when you’re sleeping and get up to fetch you coffee and bagels and Danish and go to Florent and drink coffee at midnight and have you steal my cigarettes and never be able to find a match and tell you about the the programme I saw the night before and take you to the eye hospital and not laugh at your jokes

and want you in the morning but let you sleep for a while and kiss your back and stroke your skin and tell you how much I love your hair your eyes your lips your neck your breasts your arse

and sit on the steps smoking till your neighbour comes home and sit on the steps smoking till you come home and worry when you’re late and be amazed when you’re early and give you sunflowers and go to your party and dance till I’m black and be sorry when I’m wrong and happy when you forgive me

and look at your photos and wish I’d known you forever

and hear your voice in my ear and feel your skin on my skin and get scared when you’re angry and your eye has gone red and the other eye blue and your hair to the left and your face oriental and tell you you’re gorgeous and hug you when you’re anxious and hold you when you hurt and want you when I smell you and offend you when I touch you and whimper when I’m next to you and whimper when I’m not and dribble on your breast and smother you in the night and get cold when you take the blanket and hot when you don’t and melt when you smile and dissolve when you laugh and not understand why you think I’m rejecting you when I’m not rejecting you
and wonder how you could think I’d ever reject you

and wonder who you are but accept you anyway and tell you about the tree angel enchanted forest-boy who flew across the ocean because he loved you and write poems for you and wonder why you don’t believe me and have a feeling so deep I can’t find words for it and want to buy you a kitten I’d get jealous of because it would get more attention than me and keep you in bed when you have to go and cry like a baby when you finally do and get rid of the roaches and buy you presents you don’t want and take them away again
and ask you to marry me and you say no again but keep on asking because though you think I don’t mean it I do always have from the first time I asked you
and wander the city thinking it’s empty without you and want what you want and think I’m losing myself but know I’m safe with you and tell you the worst of me and try to give you the best of me because you don’t deserve any less and answer your questions when I’d rather not and tell you the truth when I really don’t want to and try to be honest because I know you prefer it

and think it’s all over but hang on in for just ten more minutes before you throw me out of your life and forget who I am and try to get closer to you because it’s a beautiful learning to know you and well worth the effort and speak German to you badly and Hebrew to you worse and make love with you at three in the morning and

somehow somehow somehow

communicate some of the overwhelming undying overpowering unconditional
all-encompassing heart-enriching mind-expanding on-going
never-ending love I have for you.”

Over.

Kvalm. Oppskaket. Men ikke sjokkert.
Det du er best til er å såre; jeg var i skuddlinjen atter en gang etter du plasserte meg her.
Men dette var aller siste gangen. Aldri mer skal et sekund kastet bort på deg. Aldri.

Du gjør meg kvalm. Men det er endelig over.
Du. Er. Ikke. Verdt. Det.

then go

among the afflictions
with which i’ve been marked
i’m not so prententious
and not quite so dark
i get the feeling you’re bored with me
and not through habit or frequency
did your mother have you easily?
and if there’s someplace else you’d rather be
then go, then go
then go, then go
among the intentions
which have been sought
numbered and labeled
but none of them bought
i get the feeling you’re testing me
you’re saturated in urgency
you stick your probe in further
but you’re still not pleased
and if there’s someplace else you’d rather be
then go, then go
i would’ve lied for you
i would’ve cried for you
i crossed the line for you
i would’ve died for you…

Arr.

“Han stryker fingrene lett over armen hennes før han legger seg inntil henne og holder henne mykt. De ligger omtrent innkapslet i hverandre; en underskog av hud og hår og armer. Og det er riktig slik. Selv om begge vet at når morgenen kommer så brytes trolldommen og natten som var føyer seg til resten av minnene. Felles pust, hud mot hud; så inderlig riktig; så inderlig rett. Han stryker henne mykt over ryggen og hoftene; han har lært å kjenne hver centimeter av kroppen hennes; hver kurve; hver føflekk – hun snur seg mot ham halvveis i søvne, og graver hodet ned i brystkassen hans. Han legger den ene armen rundt henne igjen og selv om det er alt for varmt i rommet ligger de slik. Han kysser pannen hennes forsiktig før han skyver den andre armen under hodet hennes så han kan holde rundt henne. Hun elsker det. Det er fare for at hun innerst inne elsker ham også, men det er en tanke hun nesten ikke tør tenke engang. Men de ligger slik; som elskere og tid og rom eksisterer liksom ikke for dem; de er unntatt alle lover og regler. I hans seng i morgentimene finnes bare de to. Og hun elsker ham.”

Hjertekammermusikk.

Love is watching someone die.

 

Savn. Minner. Det henter en inn noen ganger og drar i hjertestrengene på den gale måten.

 

Jeg vil at det skal spilles mykt og raskt på hjertestrengene mine,  som påvirker pulsen og mater sommerfuglene og man må åpne munnen for å slippe melodien ut gjennom latter.

Men nå går sangen i melankolsk moll og en stille nostalgi fyller hodet og blodårene og finner veien til hjertekamrene hvor den resonnerer sammen med musikken. Det er litt fint, for jeg smiler jo, men kjenner at jeg godt kunne vært foruten.

Risikogrunnlag.

“I literally don’t know your middle name. does that matter? what systems we arrange for intimacy, small disclosures like miniature bridges, your mouth. not what I’d anticipated. softer. to begin with, I should tell the truth more. I could miss you, and that’s a liability.”

I could miss you.