Poetic journey through time
Text and image: Emilia Scharabi
my bedroom
is it true that the love with you was
just a short pleasure
where did it leave me
behind
my closed curtain
in a dark, I never chose,
never dared to dream about
on the mattress, where I lie
day and night
sometimes by light
sometimes behind curtain
and I lie when they ask me
are you in love with life?
and I dream so silently
from the past of shared hearts
reaching into the future
with longing fingers
of the child that I was.
On the doorstep
My heart expands and grasps the world so softly
as you speak to me
in rhymes and rhythms, pictures and poems
verses and lines
we come together past the night
into delight of daylight
sparks from your curls
into the lingering dark so gently broken.
When I turn, to find
half the moon
in your palm.
yonder
with your heart in my rucksack.
Let me, go. Be free, stuck.
Along the way. Meet you there.
By the road. In the trenches
of my coat,
will you carry me home
this time.
Call it paradise
– under the light of my kitchen bulb.
transit kitchen
and now I am sitting here
by the kitchen door
on a chair too small to carry
all my weight, feeling heavy
dreams locked in
the circle of the recycling bin
painted my destiny onto your body
while you were asleep
and now, I flee for the night
leaving my thoughts behind
with you
on my kitchen stool.