If I cut a word in two… Iulia Halatz

I wouldn’t have lusted

for your limbs

softened with

iron syllables.

I wouldn’t have lusted

for your shiny dark eyes

like the sea

lit by two moons…

We could wake up

to what we were…

You

breathing the air of

another planet…

basking in an estranged sun…

When winds

herald the evening

the stirs are in the

dunes

and the communal

place of storms.

I

braved a lackless sea

for naught

My kisses tell you

of another small

and drifting planet

where water

falls from the sky

and blows away

the ink of dusky clouds.

The sands tug

at my feet

and quarrel like ghosts

dervishing

blindly in the whirlwinds….

There is a hole

in the world

where you stood

brazenly stealing

the burnishing silver

of two Moons.

Yet you continue

to hurtle constellations at me.

You fumbled for Orion

and you stumbled

as I inhabit

my spell-forged star

to enhance

blandly

the clear lights of greener planets.

Oh, how I miss my autumn roses!

They carry the pungent smell

of sea and decay

to your world of

liquid sands

and honey torpors.

My finitude and fragility

are yours

The heart you melted

drips down with

dews of late

that put the sands

forever in my soul.

I have a sieve

that sifts

grains from dusts.

They heat and burn

my skin

like thousand cerulean touches

that freed me

from the toils

of lingering moons.

I will love you

for a hundred years of Blue

and for the handsomest years

of Grey and sand Yellow

that will follow.

 


“Writing is an Iron Tale, must be tough and sincere to the core of human perception of pain as valor. I am the grumpy T-Rex who started writing out of pain, not because of a polished world. Writing out of love is painless and herbivore. As we sometimes taste blood, ours or others’. Nevertheless, some words are so expensive that we are better left with them unspoken or write them with the ink of a Ghost…” She is a teacher, small entrepreneur and cyclist.

Author: Aurora Phoenix

I write as Aurora Phoenix. Nine months ago my world shattered. Unexpectedly and dramatically arrested, I have been incarcerated ever since, as I await the unbearably slow machinations of the system. Devoid of verbal communication that is unmonitored, pen and paper have served as my truest outlet for grief, fear and angst. Armed with toilet paper for intermittently copious tears, my motions experience and reflections are PaperMate poured. In this chapter of my life, I write.

51 thoughts on “If I cut a word in two… Iulia Halatz”

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