a glimpse

it is repeatedly
not what is said
but the inbetween
that touches our hearts
and mends them together
in a dance
that says in silence
so much more
than anything i could ever say

.

But I remember Andi.
It is a story of words although I remember vividly how he lit his self made cigarette in the dim warm light of an old oriental lamp. His books and music collection matched my taste and the taste of his body was fresh and innocent and warm almost like it was a good thing. Yes, I don't remember much of what was said in those intimate hours that led to feelings of complete humiliation and regrets towering against an otherwise cleancut blue early summer sky.
I remember that he had a brother and he likes, ironically, outdoor adventures just as much as I did and while I was daydreaming of us making wild sweet love in wild sweet meadows or in the back of his amiable VW bus he told me about how he made at least seven women scream and cum and explode their brains and it wasn't until later that I understood that it was scarred hearts that remained. And only now I realize the red lights that should have been flashing when he boasted with something that was absent in our time.

Another night I let him come and cum again, he left within seconds afterwards mumbeling some dumb words not giving silence one chance to breath.
It was a nice light setting then too but my friends room and I don't know whether I even made it to the shower to wash off the humiliating feeling dripping off my fingers like a sticky disgusting summer sweat.

The lessons learned were hard to digest. Thinking back never gave me any pleasures except for maybe the first night behind the bar in the vastness of the rusty sculpture park. There were stars at last and mind blowing virginity of the moment.

Everything else is and should remain a faint and slurry blur. My only words that I draw from those moments of silence that he couldn't see are the following:

Affairs only really make sense when you are sexually experienced. When you know what makes you cum. When you have had the opportunity to fully trust someone.

and when the other person knows about the perfectness and uniqueness and the value of a now.

carpe diem
carpe noche

trust

the trust it was broken and you damaged it
it was you
there is no second guessing
and you
who i love

so there was my eagerness to forgive
but i didn't know that forgiving is not forgetting
and it is not a decision
but a long journey
on the back of a broken sad heart.

there was trust shattered
again and again
and
how can you demand me
to trust you

when i feel the scar of that injured trust
rub up against my heart
all this time

.

trust, just as forgiving
a journey
not a decision

fear

it is in fear that we lie.
what an uncomfortable and terrible way of being laid.
it is a bigger fear that unties a knot of lie

it is unconditional love only that resolves the fear beneath.

i am not mad at you.
i feel pity
i might be sad.
i might want to cry into the evening sky.
but
i am not mad

my own imperfections tower above me like a shadow straight out of a nightmare.
you bare with me
i bare with you

maybe that's another thing
about
what they call


love