he tells her that her body is too heavy to hold and her hunger insatiable. her craving reminds him of a starved animal perhaps his past loving was lighter; to love her is to love a whole world. he is unaccustomed to this darkness his tongue can taste miracles inside her deep collarbone but heContinue reading “made to please”
Author Archives: paraschivaflorescu
Body remembers
Start gentle with holding, with loving those parts that others broke open. Your cells are folding around the memory, but help them forget. Talk to your body in whispering sound: it’s over now, I hold you into safety. It’s over now and your spiral life is unraveling each day, each day closer to the homecoming. Continue reading “Body remembers”
Last to let go
I let my body paint the story. My hands trace our beginning within space, my hips circle into spirals dancing our story that never ends. Our story that never ends but takes different shapes each year. This year shaped into absence, the space that remained, missing; From too much to a lack of feeling. FromContinue reading “Last to let go”
Bardo
Show me the broken parts. The ugly. The cracks of your being. Show me where is the mould, the dampness. Show me where you are rusty, untouched. Show me the faults you hide well from view, the ones you’ve been hiding for such a long time. Show me the shame you carry on your palms,Continue reading “Bardo”
On journeying with grief
Where there is grief there is no space for new love. For in fact grief is in itself a love that is dark, transformed in shape but not in its structure. I have known grief intimately and for a while I never thought I’ll know anything but its taste. With each moon I emptied myselfContinue reading “On journeying with grief”
Only a matter of time
I am Earth particles. I am made from mud and dirt. The moist ground from the depth of the mountain, the moss from the forest, dampness. I am my grandmother’s blood, her hands, skin cracked, bleeding broken from tending the earth. I long to hear her story. I grieve what she could have been ifContinue reading “Only a matter of time”
On dying parts
to you that lacks god in between your eyes I might look like I’m dying or perhaps you call me a crazy woman. the world is not accustomed to this kind of death. We mourn bodies, we mourn what’s no longer there to feed us, to give us some thing We refuse to meet theContinue reading “On dying parts”
Flow; shaking
This poem was written during my daily meditation practice. It did not come from thinking, from looking for words and creating literature, it did not come from the mind. It came out of flowing, words that my body had to say. It is part of FLOW writing which will be a series of poems spokenContinue reading “Flow; shaking”
Patterns of light
I open to receive this Blessing fully, like a lotus flower blooming in emergence out of the darkness. My mind doubts whether it can contain this love wholly, still holding on to a grain of suspicion as to whether such happiness is tangible. I sort through the doubt with great precision like Vasalitsa sorting poppyContinue reading “Patterns of light”
Pavel
You’ve named me, months before my birth. I was first a thought, before your thought metamorphosed into a seed, sprouting. You named me Pavel, a boy’s name that you practiced calling, a name your lips would form with pride and anticipation. Pavel. I came to you as a disappointment at first. You prayed so longContinue reading “Pavel”
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