sincerely, i
Slow dancing in a burning room
It's an eerie feeling
The warmth of the fire keeping us from freezing over
The smell of smoke seemingly turning into my favourite scent
The fumes making the room look more sinister than it really is
there are only minutes before the fire catches us
that is, if the smoke doesn't first.
I love dancing
I always have, to the point where I'm ready to get burnt
But the record is too old, and the song is almost at its end
much like our predestined doom,
for which the countdown began with a song
and will end in ash.
call me by your name
The year is 1983, I am seventeen years old.
It’s summer, somewhere in northern Italy.
I’m falling in love with a slightly older stranger.
She’s here only for the summer.
We are catching trains to Rome
And running through the empty streets at night
kissing up against the walls of the Santa Maria dell’amina
Tomorrow is today and we go to the San Clemente.
Back home in an eighteenth century villa
I change the chords every time I play the piano
We swim by the lake and play the guitar
I pretend to be reading, lost in thought
Borrowed time is what we are running on
We hide through the night.
It’s all a secret.
The time is up.
Summer is over.
She catches the train home,
Alone this time.
I don’t know what to say
There’s an impending will to cry, to scream.
She came. She left. Nothing else had changed.
I had not changed. The world hadn’t changed.
Yet nothing would be the same.
All that remains is a daydream and strange remembrance.
It’s over now.
I remember everything.
bleeding hearts
he was the king of the underworld.
who rose from beneath the ground
and made her fall into a bleak oblivion.
he took her with and gave her the world
she was a living irony, with her unthinkable duplexity,
a maiden goddess of life and the queen of all that’s dead.
the wood nymph portrayed so innocent, victimised.
stolen, abducted, ravished, wronged.
was she though?
on earth, she was a pretty little quiet thing,
a goddess in her own right
and yet overshadowed by the king of gods
and she of the grain
a mere girl.
beneath it, she was given a throne of fire,
made into a queen,
exaltation of the dead.
a god feared by all three realms,
feared her,
her existence and her absence alike.
