fit them into boxes, peculiar gifts to my small self, stuff them down –a pale foot pops outthin-fingered hand with nails too long. they don’t fit wellthey never did. To search for youI tried to love the unlovableto choose as if blind and forget myself enough. I spread myself out like a poor country withContinue reading “All the men that I tried to love”
Author Archives: paraschivaflorescu
the miracle we are seeking
Go to the edges. As with anything, the edges define, but we are not looking for any definitions. The edges hold the entry point – within. Start there: at the periphery of your longing; a small village of your desires has made a home in spite of the scarcity you harboured. Start there. * YouContinue reading “the miracle we are seeking”
epiglottis is the door
The anatomy of grieving I travel down my oesophagus, the rigged stair to a moist world under. I sneak through the epiglottis, unnoticed, pass the larynx, wordless and red as a vulva. Adam’s apple unbitten – my pharynx is no sinner. I descend down passing the thymus, space between breasts where lovers like to hide,Continue reading “epiglottis is the door”
A prayer for loosening
Resolution, resolutionem – a process of reducing things into simpler forms. Stems from old Latin, resolvere – to loosen, to untie, to dissolve. And isn’t winter all about dissolving? When all loosens its grip and falls into slumber. The simplicity of it: crisp days, just enough light for brief encounters; deep nights with endless timeContinue reading “A prayer for loosening”
when you are winter
it’s quiet here as if Grief is at last asleepAnd Loss departed, Words are wordless and even Yearning distracted by this stillness. The Pain of the World is in momentary lightnesshanging above like an ancient blanket. Here, the river is still water, oceans waveless and immutable. Is this the breath halted to an exhale? TheContinue reading “when you are winter”
fools that save us
Fools deny the veil. To believe in things that seem to be, but aren’t. To refuse to see the things not apparent, that are. And even then, to grieve for so long the dissolution of illusion. To love so much the creation of my imagination, my eye craving to twist and turn and bend whatContinue reading “fools that save us”
We breathe farewell*
Every Thing flows towards its full aliveness. I look at the ancient stone walls cracking open with green flowering buds that bloom upwards as if through a miracle. And with us too, there’s remembrance in each cell, instant recognition of what is un-nameable, beyond thought, beyond the small mind’s ability of grasping. We are clay bodiesContinue reading “We breathe farewell*”
the owl rider
Follow the dark raven to the body of what has died. Walk into the room of grief. You’ll find, there, a child mourning. Bring her in through the door of your heart. Dab her lips with hot hawthorn. Wash her body with fresh mint leaves. Wrap her in tender cloths of motherly love. Here, sheContinue reading “the owl rider”
Your will, I am
faithful to the way You twist and turn meYour gifts hidden in such dark places The voice whispersyou know what you know and do not turn away from it I follow the night owls into the depths of pain, my longingleads the way my longingis the beckoning that calls me Home I’ll be whole againmyContinue reading “Your will, I am”
not every sea
You empty the house of bags and dreams. A teapot, blue gown, a stone. It’s easier to leave angry – slammed doors, bodies stiff and cold like the dead. Yet, when you arrive back in your mother’s home, in the vast insistent quietness, a mind loud and sore – you’ll feel then the edges ofContinue reading “not every sea”
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