Jarek Puczel
I run the risk of my inner star,
I burn out from myself,
I am so bright like for contain the darkness.
But darkness is what makes me visible and real.
My head is a cosmos with days, nights and dreams.
My cosmos is a filament of eternity.
And you are in it.
I dreamt a letter,
I dreamt about the past.
You lay on my bed,
I was looking in your face,
smelled your perfume,
felt your warmth under your silk
and whished this to all eternity.
Later I was sitting in my room,
alone,
your dress lay on my bed
in golden candlelight,
I felt devotion again,
days passed by,
wondering about the strength of love.
Love which led the beloved loose themselves.
and the awe that men are never able to understand life.
A lover can only loose himself to his beloved if he is catched carefully.
this safes his dignity.
This is love.
one able to take off the silk dress from my current nudity.
The crystalls are amid the lips, the hearts.
Again.
I was unnable to catch us carefullly.
The only possible consequence is a deafening thunder word.
Never.
An impossible word into an invisible world.
To remember, to forget, to dream, to need, to forget, to dream, to remember.
All is full of love.
I need what I love, as the music needs a string for cutting the air,
as the candle wax needs a glint of fire for shine against the black.
A lover can only loose herself to her beloved if she is truly free.
My deep wooden voice is scorched
but
I dreamt a spell,
I dreamt about the future.
I am perfumed with a golden light,
facing the park. I take your invisible beautiful hand.
And you take mine.
I see the horizon and a train passes
by.
My eyes deep inside of me,
with no dragon flies or airplaines sights.
A pyramid found in my waist a year ago, now we untie,
and the raindrops all around me fall down.
You start to scintillate, specially your eyes, your mane and your smile.
You twist and turn until the abysm is gone.
Your name, letter by letter, nine times my lips count.
The sea will come for it. Your name in my head slowly turns into waves.
The waves keeps the love in me without the pain.
My velvet heart is out of our past steps.
The ability to love, the power of being a human
they are not about letters or spells!
They are about
to heal,
to change
and
to create.
Son of the lion, son of Jupiter, son of yourself:
I still do care.
But never
never
never
never
never
never
is a deadpoint flowers bouquet.
You cut it from the garden of confusion I planted
so
I take it back.
With the bouquet and the vacuum in my heart,
now I walk my own path.
God and reason,
one
in each hand.
I love you, and always will.
