the lack of a hug (umarmungless)

agujero.jpg

She had finally found her refuge, the only conceivable place

She sat, her back leaning against the clock, convinced she’d disappear

She hid her knees under the dress and dug her face among her mop of hair

She trusted that time wouldn’t see her

And she witnessed how, beyond there, history cycled

She had found that shelter,

but the presence of time was advised by her own heart throbs

She screamed

She screamed along time and along dimensions,

not to hear the ticking, not to grieve sensations

She stop hearing her own beats and thought “Do I live?”

But she couldn’t stop the howling

She commited to regard, from behind the clock, how everything mutated

But she felt unafected, nothing was her concern no more

She thought to see TheOthers

coming close

She imagined she was reading their lips, hushed by the scream, saying “that is just another hole”

What do TheOthers know.

Spanish

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This is over… eventually.

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You dig into it voluntarily

Perhaps you didn’t have better choices

But the choice not to is always there

Then you swim for a while

Then you start to drown

And when you are fed up with it and want to walk away, it is yourself who don’t want to just go and try to find a proper ending for it. You know exactly what you have to do to get out, but you don’t. OMG, there are so many other shit things that look so appealing compared to this. But sometimes, fortunately only sometimes, the waiting to act makes you be further away from the exit.

That’s it. A sour-sweet love, where the sweet comes from your blood and the sour from your tears.

Listen to it:

Picture: Nicoletta Ceccoli