Can you imagine a more beautiful view
than the one designed just for you?
From the shelter you built
where the birds often sit
the palms always dance at sunset.
There you are in your seat
watching it all feel complete
knowing full well
that from what you can tell
you’re the reason the birds come to visit.
And what of the power of words?
forged in our minds, sealed in ink
made physical the sins that we think
***
It’s not unlike us to search for truth
even when bound, we find a way
to make timeless what we can’t say
***
On paper it would seem
the pressure releases, slowly
and our pens touch all that is holy
Blizzard road. Red lights paving the way. Pretending to be asleep when we park outside the house. Papa carries my limp body to bed. He smells like cigarettes, pine and honey.
He tucks me in and kisses my forehead. Later I hear him and Mama talk in the kitchen. The crack of a bottle. Red, blue and green lights flicker in the living room while songs of chestnuts and reindeer play loud enough to make out some of the words.
Family parties full of noise and energy. The buzz of anticipation and infinite play. Bacalhau, baked potatoes, the smell of garlic and wine.
Fifty different conversations happening all at once, a low hum you want to live inside forever. Those days are gone. But I remember them like they still live on separately.
I can’t see them anymore, but I know they’re there.
Striding toward the sun
linked arm in arm,
we always dive in headfirst.
We’ll make friends with squirrels
and fly with birds
until it’s time to reset.
I’d rather be idle
than on the go
when he looks so happy here.
Because life is simple
at its most grand,
blessed freedom and mother’s rays.
Do you ever catch glimpses of the sun between dark patches of old?
When the world opens up for you like a woman and shows you the way
Suddenly every road, every stone is a gift to unfold.
There’s an insatiable hunger that food can never dull. It lives in the deepest crevice of your heart, and contorts your dreams till you’re sick. Feed it too much and the hunger spreads. Feed it too little and it’ll eat its way out. Feed it nothing – now that’s the trick.
Like a dog whose attention spans the world all at once, let the sky’s breath ruffle your hair. Stand under the sun till you ignite. Hold your mother’s hand.
Ignore the growl in your core till it turns into rhythm, a silk beat to walk in time to as you spread yourself thinner and thinner into dust because when you cease being wants, craves, and burns,
you’re cosmic.
He held me on the sidewalk while bodies passed, dodging us like we were delicate birds in the middle of the road.
I stained his jacket like the rain looming above our heads threatened to stain the city.
We had been here before. Me grieving a loss of something I’d never had. Him towering over me like a building I could lock myself inside.
I used to think he waded in shallow waters while I sunk into the deep. I pictured his long tranquil body at the surface, a halo of sun emanating over the sea. I couldn’t reach it.
In the car I mourned the loss of nothing and felt myself sink. He held my hand just in time to keep me afloat. We locked eyes and fingers, igniting a forcefield to keep the world out.
Driving through the clutter, we escaped the muck that pressed onto our skin – mine always stickier than his it seemed.
When we were free I kissed him so he could feel the light he had left inside me.
It was then I knew we’d find our way together
through the rain,
the sea,
and up towards the sun.
Let me ponder your silhouette
all that was yours alone, which now is ours
Stand before me in the flesh
with wine lips, trembling, whispering professions
of eternity
A glance from your eyes overshadows the mundane
The only perspective that matters
You.
I watch the wind
blow
Surroundings fade
to
Blissful nothing
like
My mind on
days
Void of you
here
Mariana R. Cabral 