Full moon

The moon is full,
So is the room,
Humid of people’s breaths,
While I orbitate around you.

The dj plays Cuban nostalgia
And lonely bachatas,
While I try to find my steps
In these dances that newly adopted me.

Despite the music I hear our silence,
Crystal clear, exquisite like sips
Of whiskey.
You stand next to me like a stranger I know,
Like a glass of water on a thirsty night,
Like my personal revelation.

They say sometimes we see in people
The mirror of ourselves,
I see the encounter of a little girl
With the boy you were,
Probably both very wounded,
Yet friends, for real.
And in the constellation
Of this glistening crowd
Of strangers meeting other strangers
I have found you,
And I cannot stop
Orbiting around you.

To Stephan

Your name

I love your name in every language
As it belonged to someone I love and lost,
And it belongs to you.

That’s something about you
That made me see you through,
The way you stand out of the crowd
As lost as me,
The way we shared our stories
So naturally that trauma bonding
Almost became beautiful.

You stay, wrapped in silence
Next to me,
While we stand aside a busy dance floor
That speaks languages unknown to us.

We speak the same language though,
Or at least, we understand each other.
– so truly –
Like you don’t even have to talk
And I feel you,
Or you feel my thirst,
And you serve me a glass of water.

To Stephan

Bear mask

I have a bear mask on my desk
To remind myself that certain
Monsters do not scare you at first
They do look actually beautiful,
They are danger in disguise
Dressed up like saviours,
Dispensing hugs and predators’ protection
Sucking soul and spirit out of you,
Diminishing your dignity,
Trampling on your values.

And then, they dispense of you
And treat you like casual occurrences
And replaceable artefacts
Bored of owning your presence in their life.

That’s when you stay still
And breathe life all in,
Gulping on guilt but
Somewhat liberated.

Yet, there are some broken bits
That still hurt
Fiery thorns inside your heart.
That scream validation and restoration,
That scream for you to be seen
Again, entirely lovable.

Friendship math

Friendship is an offering of peace
A safe haven where to be free
To dive in oneself, together,
Vulnerable and raw,
Like human beings.

A lost paradise in which to meet
And stay, sun bathing in the silence
Of our souls.

A presence that matters
And gives meaning
That fills that space of
Loneliness we all carry inside.

The secret is to share
The emptiness to make it real,
Consistent, contingent,
A shared harmony,
Filled with all the stories and the memories
Of our intersected paths.

Us human beings are made of
A strange math,
We only grow when we are capable of sharing.

Taxi ride

The building mirrors itself in the cars next to me,
Whose windows are striped by the reflection of its floors.
Manchester by night,
Still blessed by some summer light
While I go emptying my heart
On an outdoor dance floor.

The taxi is filled by its driver’s
Nattering at the phone
Words I don’t understand,
I am busy waiting to arrive at my destination,
To see what broken dreams
Destiny can heal.

The cityscape becomes more and more
Familiar,
And I am almost there,
And it’s almost real
How much I am trying
To feel irreplaceable.

Reflections

The sky is painting its pink reflections
All over its surroundings
And the world smells flowers and clouds
While the shadows of the evening gently
Approach, behind the dusk.

Life go resting in its purple palette
And the road ahead is bathing
In my favourite music.

You drive, while I stay
Next to your seat
Copiloting our story.

We’ve been all colours
Throughout the years
And tonight, once more,
We wear the summer glow of the sunset.

Grace

The way you hold yourself
With beauty and kindness
While wrapping carefully
Tourists’ gifts,

The way your presence
Warmly sparkles
In your gentle artistry
With poetry and precision…

You are a gem in the heart of this
Fairytale town
A Princess in disguise,
Concealing her nobility
While serving people.

Midnight blue

The space between me and the world
Is midnight blue,
Filled with small threads of ifs
That keep me hanging

While I know they’ll never translate
Into a real poem…

The hurricane of my feelings,
Quiet, calm, is folded within
Its inward destination.

And my desires, in line, one by one
Dried flowers I can’t retain
While I stain the paper of ink and stars,
And tears, and years…

But all I want, all I scream for
Is that tiny piece of pencil
Leftover of my days
Soft, blendable, erasable
Over my timelines.

Dust and destiny

So easily we shake off
Our feelings after closing our closets,
So much dust to get rid of,
The debris of what it has been,
Being it beautiful or beautifully sad.

So eagerly we try to move on,
Invested in our pride
Unaware of the very whispers of our
Own destiny.

We are all floating at the verge
Of our narratives,
Twirling rapidly over the loop of life…
Until we stumble vulnerably
Upon the stairs of eternity:
There, we have no choice
But reverently bow.

Sun shadow

I caught somebody’s shadow
On my way to the shopping centre
Their smell was filling the road ahead of me.
Their presence stayed,
Solid in the sunshine
Silent and unapologetic
Free of any stanza of regrets.

Impermanent yet vivid,
Stealthy and steady,
So alive I could see their story through.