Shawna Tavsky

no entiendo
si el frio es
lo que prefiero
o el silencio es
lo que quiero

 

My dear,
while you decided
to drown
in the sound
of the rain
tonight
I soaked in
bright colors
walked through
mud puddles
wet gleaming
traffic lights,
smiling.

 

There is a strange stillness in flight
between what has lived in me
and what will come to be.

 

It’s cold again
the days pass
the hours go by
words
have no memory
and the sun is warm
in the morning.

 

You were a shadow on my skin
you were nothing more
than a fleeting
sin.

 

She stood
behind the lines
and she waited
and waited
until time taught her
she wasn’t waiting
she was wasting
she couldn’t see
her soul
in the mirror so
she smashed the glass
and new lines flew
in all directions
it was the sound
of breaking through.

 

There is
a landscape
in me
still and constant
longing to be
in the light
of old souls
in the company
of those
who have
learned
to walk
slow.

 

The ashes of permanence
are buried in my being
in all the memories
I forget.

 

I laughed
under the sun
and got burnt again
so I stood there
nowhere
wanting to walk away
wanting to pretend
you never appeared
before you disappeared
instead
I’m holding loneliness
and boredom close
until I remember
they are the enemies
I love.

 

Infinity sleeps
in your eyes
while time
rests its wings
and love plants
quiet gardens
in the rain.

 

Hilos de luz
tan finas
más frágiles
caen aquí
es mojado
el oscuro
no es frío
donde respiro
los recuerdos
de ti.

 

Dreams
pull us in
to the other side
of broken
where our wings
our fragile limbs
quiver
frightened
by the echoes
and the shadows
pull us in.

 

With the tide
the poet came
and came again
lapping at my thighs
in shallow waves
the poet sighed
and came
and came again.

 

Amor
conocido
desconocido
caminaré contigo
liberando mis miedos
dejando mis huellas
en las manos
de mareas
escucharé
al mar.

 

La ausencia no existe
en los recuerdos imaginarios
en los momentos inventados.
Solo existe el reflejo de ti.

Mis deseos son del viento,
desaparecen con el tiempo.

La ausencia es un ascenso
del silencio del mar
está diciéndome soltar.
Mis manos tiemblan aquí.

Mis deseos son del viento,
desaparecen con el tiempo.

La ausencia susurra
por hilos invisibles
cosidos en mis dedos.
Has dejado tu aliento en mi.

Mis deseos son del viento,
desaparecen con el tiempo.

La ausencia me llama
a través de la ventana
es la boca espantosa
de una rosa hermosa.

La quiero entrar.

 

Elegance awoke in tears
to the soft words
you spoke.

When the time came
for a quiet pause
you broke.

 

Her roots took hold
in winter’s embrace
passing through
growing slow
unnoticed
extensions
of her being
weaving
the colors of seasons
into reasons
to go.

 

Inhaling
your wild words
is a surge of excitement
and a lie
lies
on every note.

 

What happens
if the silence turns around
and the quiet in the walls
falls through the cracks
and I laugh again?

 

After all
I see
this storm
will steer me
down
that road
where wild
screams
are slit
and arranged
just so.

 

There’s a reason it’s there.
I liked it at first, now I despise it.
I can´t believe I even put it there
so I have to think about that.
That’s the reason it’s there.

 

She sensed his
unfiltered
insensitive wit
guarded inside
more sensitive
questions of love
driven by goodbyes
from a place
where music resides
as faith
in an infinite kiss
where magic lingers
in her fingers
while pondering
the book of love
which he read
before he wed
and said
"I do".

 

Immutable
desire
waiting
in circles
unseen
she goes
round
she goes
round
in circles.

 

An amber light
broke through
a mist of indigo
stirring a smile
in her tea
by the window
where she bleeds
ink stained
aching
love making
poetry.

 

One Sunday I remember sharing a way of seeing the world written on a napkin imagining your map of stories drawn on fine paper wings. It made me smile to think of traveling against wind with sad bears, old cats, imaginary friends and things.

 

May I leave now?

Beauty weighted against the ache of nothingness is fading gracefully.

My body, an elegant scar of flesh fused to memory, gives way to its weary ghosts.

Signs of light and lightness seep through the lines to the living, dying.

I see my corpse amidst the shadows, quietly ablaze.

 

Dreams
pull us in
to the other side
of broken
where our wings
our fragile limbs
quiver
frightened
by the echoes
and the shadows
pull us in.

 

In the aching cold
my tears roll
slow.

 

I feel half alone
half here
there
somewhere
hidden, written
in bitter poetry
untold.

 

All around our stone dreams crumbled.
Your tired feathers broken, fell
to the greys of old, the dust, the cold.
Your heaviness clung stubborn
to the weakness in my bones.
Your silence swallowed sorrow
to the depths you walk alone.
Yet for all that came to pass, my love,
it was with you that she was born.

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