Two Poems by Cole Lu
You’re dead to me. Lies. I could be free of you without having to lose you. You whom need to have a secret but cannot help telling. And it is you whom I looked for all over the city.
There is something in the way. Two summers ago I was braved, no one died but I lost my grandfather. I enjoy anniversaries, the mood you can repeat without having to relive the event, either it is too trivial or too painful to bear. I must be pmsing; it’s hard to tell what are your feelings. I have always loved having my back massaged. A good soap lather when I’m bathing has sometimes soothed and refreshed me. The sound of the rain falling on the roof has made me feel snug and secure. And the first winter snowfall has often looked pretty to me. When I have walked by a bakery, the smell of fresh bread has often made me hungry. I have often enjoyed the feel of silk, velvet, or fur. And I have been fascinated with the dancing of flames in a fireplace. On hearing a good song, I often wanted to sing along with it. I have usually found love-making to be intensely pleasurable. When I have seen a statue I have had the urge to feel it. I have usually found soft music relaxing. The smell of dinner cooking always aroused my appetite. On seeing a soft, thick carpet, I have sometimes had the impulse to take off my shoes and walk barefoot on it. The warmth of an open fireplace especially soothed and calmed me. I have often felt comfortable when my friends touch me. I have always had a number of favorite foods. I found thunderstorms are exhilarating. Sex is the most intensely enjoyable thing in life. I have often enjoyed receiving a strong, warm handshake. When eating a favorite food, I have often tried to eat slowly to make it last longer. The taste of food has always been important to me. It has always made me feel good when someone I care about reaches out to touch me.
Someone has died who is not dead. Because love by its nature desires future. Futuring is time passing and I don’t have time. I lay sideways reading the last letter from her over and over, I have a body that warps and wrinkles it is all I got and all I ever had. And I have a bad bad feeling about this bad bad feeling. It is this women with the deserted eyes for whom I would die. Maybe in this way she will be gone, water crawling from her blue eyes until it dries makes an ocean centered in her palm.
Sunny landscape. Pastel Wall. Gentle air conditioning.
I have often found walks to be relaxing and enjoyable. I have sometimes enjoyed feeling the strength in my muscles. Long before I have a chance to adore all of you I adored bits of you. One fine morning in the month of June, you were born with no middle name. Eyes full of sun.
*CRAVE first appeared in CODÉTTE JOURNAL #3
com 2 tnk of it, i dnt wnt 2 tell u bout dat incidnt
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