Posts Tagged ‘love’

the part of the story no one wants to hear


is that, in the end,
you’re not really better
than him.

that she indeed could find
someone finer than you.

that you are not the greatest,
not irreplaceable.

not someone
special, one of a kind,
as you thought yourself
to be.

all in all,
you are just a person,
– neither good nor bad –
just one
that wasn’t right
for someone else.

(and that yes, she got over you
and, surely, found
somebody just as good,
if not worthier)


the good part
that I personally think you should hear
that you’re no one’s second choice,
no one’s leftovers,

and that you do have value,
maybe not for this one person,
nor that other,
but you’ll be a good fit
for somebody new.

senses #1 – smell


i remember you
distinctively by your smell:
and your earthly sweat,
the tangy cleanness
of generic white soap
on your neck
and clove cigarette smoke
mixed with aftershave
below your mouth.

from the past


my father was a funny man.

so unlike me:
with no affinity for
Tennessee whiskey,
cured meat,
nor knives.

a soft-spoken,
well-humored little man,
that never got into a fight.

so unlike me:
a gentle man.

i wonder when this will go away


you don’t know
how it goes
on the other side.
how your smiles
are ropes
that tie tight
around my heart:

when you talk,
the strings tauten
compressing, and clenching
until my breath leaves me.

sweet, delicious
in my chest.

and, when you speak
I am reminded
of past scenes
between you and me
(and the phantoms of the kisses
we traded in a time far, far away).

in a mix of memory and dream
I am once again
pulled in.

these memories are
like a tide
that carry my body
into the water.

how did the kissing feel to you?

to me, it felt wet
and warm
and everywhere:
like drowning in the sea
while it rains.

walking backwards


old times
when my heart
wasn’t hardened
by the foulness
and i wasn’t
afraid to say
i am sorry
or coy
to tell you
that i miss you.



people say that you have
an alluring charm,
highly effective in enticing.

it’s true:
you do have an outstanding capacity
to fascinate and draw in.

a luring smile.
some enthralling talk
that beguiles.

however, “magnetic charm” is not
an expression that applies:

unlike a magnet
you attract,
but can never

and revolted
after a while,
everyone stands apart.

men in love


Facebook knew we were in love
before we did.

through its algorithms
and machinations,
analysis of posts
and common friends,
it knew
we were into each other
even before the concrete thought
formed in our minds.

so, it suggested we posted pictures
did things together;
crafted and shared a life together,
and plastered it for the whole wide web
and world of our friends and family to see.

it knew we were in love
even before we did
and told pretty much everyone
but us.

age: 28


it’s in the darkest hour

(under the cover of routine
of four o’clock in the afternoon,
in the middle of my shift
at the office-
that point when I feel
there is nothing before or after,
just me, crunching numbers,
cold coffee
and spreadsheets-
on a Wednesday)

that I, at random, remember:

you, in a black jacket,
poised like a pale bird
under the glow of the streetlight,
“I come bearing gifts”
and handing me a beer
as I rested my forehead
on your belly
and embraced
your midriff in my arms.

and as fast as it comes
it goes-
the spark of memory.

summers in rio


this is a perfect warm, sunny day.

perfect to do nothing but sweat the stiffing heat out and enjoy it, lying in cold, clean sheets, put fresh on the bed. absolutely perfect to stretch underneath the ceiling fan, feeling the wind blow down my cheekbones while hard-napping or maybe watching the cats spread out their little furry legs, bellies-up, all over the white cold floor tiles.

it’s a perfect day to just be. to take a holiday from everything, call your job and play hooky, to not show your face outside (“have you seen the sun out in the sky? it’s like a fucking blowtorch!”), and to move as little as possible; maybe go only from the bed to the kitchen and vice-versa, feeling the clothes adhere to the skin, the hairs stick to the back of the neck. to order food in, take a long cold shower (or two), pour a stiff, cold whiskey and numb our cooked brains.

a good, vacant day.

it’s a nice day to love one another untangled, respecting each others’ breathing space, trading soft tip-of-fingers caresses that are slow and melty like ice cream only. it’s a good day to roll around the top of the comforter, kick away the sheets to the foot of the matress, and to redefine love-

to let go of the unrealistic crap about holding on another all the time, being attuned to the others’ movement all your life, and to re-signify it to something softer, more unfocused (like pupils dilated after a dreamy night, a full dinner), but just more real and likely: gentle ass groping over underwear that’s not really going anywhere, cooking pancakes late at night after a marathon of movies, peeling pajamas off when the midnight breeze kicks in (windows open!) and maybe, tomorrow, noticing that this is what love really is:

summer days in the wonderful city, lounging around and being eventually back to reality… like, come tomorrow, facing the sun on the streets, passing through throngs of people, getting body odor to go to the grocery store to buy cereal and toilet paper… my stinky cheese and your nasty soy milk… and it all being worth it.

milky way


you wanted space
so I gave you
this universe and back.