Zuzana.
{source}
Zuzana, I’m looking for the right stories to tell
I’m not sure if I’ve made any pertinent discoveries along the way
But nothing’s all that relevant anyway.
Maybe the Universe has it all figured out, and we’re just pawns with small paws ready
To succumb to our inevitable future days in purgatory;
Falling short and falling again into nonstop episodes of want and wait and temporary comfort in your dark arms —
Your rigged handshake has us all guessing what it is that’s stuck underneath your tongue
Behind your veiled gaze that says flamboyant dreams and hollow memories lie in layers of dust inside of me.
Your freckled feet running across the fluid excuses they tried to fool you with
Who were they to cross your star-spangled path?
To throw their amber beads into your already burning inferno,
Maybe there is no Why.
Dearest sun-kissed honeycomb lady
the intangible parts of you that remain
Stay dripping from my lips like the warmest chocolate —
You have stained me with your true blue beauty.
I remember the scent of your early hours
The fresh new dawn breaking our intertwined dreamland in a
Space that can never be created nor destroyed.
Sun shining on the hill I would roll up for you any minute of the day
Will you keep it to yourself and clay make that nothing else will change?
Zuzana, you’re ablaze with an internal summer sunrise
Don’t waste your time sinking your jaded jaws into their frail, suspended impulses
You’re a bright blaze in a heavy haze, awash with surprises
Your heart filled with the straw that’s stuck between your toes.
Are you the martyr or the prisoner begging for one more sweet hit
Are you open and thirsty for the everlasting sustenance or are you
Trying to find it in broken Isaiahs again?
Are you lacking in dangerous desire, do you want to know why
You’re black and grey with moonlit smiles?
Are you seventeen once more where innocence began with and rusted by the end of your last howl,
Where the deaf ones took delight in your twists and turns
but the show was never for them.
You, Zuzana, were made to swim in oceans of wonder and starlight
why do you then choose to roam around narrow endless caves and wake up to weak whispers that only intend to try and love you once you’ve fled
Zuzana, do you know what you are?
Do you know that sapphires glow a golden green in your eyes at the midnight hour?
Do you know that the end is never the end but comes and goes in spirals and
that you could be happy
If you stopped trying and began to be instead.
(my limbs are made of lead
I’m lying in the same unmade bed
Did you know those first two weeks still run timeless through my head?
You were the end of my unsatisfied cravings, you were the one I didn’t know how to stop.
But I left before I knew how to keep on holding you and
if our milky ways ever meet again, I’ll wait for you on the brighter side of then.)
I sit now stuck with lost causes and flavorless fruit
My thoughts like dry bones running around in endless pursuit
After you, the gold dust I let slip through my thin fingers.
*****
Cecile Morden is a bundle of chaos that hides behind an innocent smile. She believes in the spirits of God and loving others with kind words that are often uttered in silence. A hippie, a lover, a daring stranger with a heart wilder than she even knows, she describes herself as a quasi-chameleon who remains stunned by the beauty life offers to the bewildered. Hoping to major in Psychology and Social Anthropology in a couple of years, she is addicted to riding waves of chance and talking to people about lives resting in sh(r)eds. She likes collecting nice smelling soaps, tattoos and empty glass bottles — simple earthly pleasures. Inspired by shattered hearts, gangsters and her mysterious belated Oupa (grandfather), she often wonders about the ever-elusive truth and traveling to India.
Comments
Latest posts by Rebelle Society (see all)
- Cemetery of Tears. - April 19, 2024
- My Identity Journey: What’s in a Name? - April 19, 2024
- Cyprus: A Magic Place That Feels Like Home. - April 19, 2024