O trem do metrô, a fila do supermercado, a mesa da cozinha. Minhas mãos cheias de desejo, as suas cheias de sono. Na porta meio iluminada do seu quarto, meu corpo murmurou que queria o seu, mas você estava muito distraído com a geografia das coisas — graus de separação e despedidas inevitáveis. Ainda assim, penso no seu nariz, na sua boca e no estreito vão entre os dois, como um escorregador de plástico em um parquinho infantil onde nós dois crescemos. Veja, as coisas que eu queria de você eram coisas de sonhos febris e profundos: imprudência, línguas ensanguentadas … Continue reading Em algum momento em meus devaneios

Around us, life bursts with miracles – a glass of water, a ray of sunshine, a leaf, a caterpillar, a flower, laughter, raindrops. If you live in awareness, it is easy to see miracles everywhere. Each human being is a multiplicity of miracles. Eyes that see thousands of colors, shapes, and forms; ears that hear a bee flying or a thunderclap; a brain that ponders a speck of dust as easily as the entire cosmos; a heart that beats in rhythm with the heartbeat of all beings. When we are tired and feel discouraged by life’s daily struggles, we may … Continue reading Miracles

Un sommeil réparateur m’avait échappé pendant plus d’une semaine.Face à un autre “anniversaire”,Mon esprit courait au-delà des faits jusqu’à l’opinion,Au-delà de la raison jusqu’au délire,Au-delà de la logique jusqu’au ressenti. Là, je me tenais, confronté au miroir,Osant poser à l’image qui me fixait la question suivante.“Eh bien, tu as soixante-six ans maintenant, qu’as-tu ?” Mes sourcils commencèrent à tressaillir,Des vêtements amples semblaient soudain étroits,Sentant le début d’un mal de tête dû à une pression basse.Visiblement mal à l’aise, rancunier face à l’interrogation du miroir. Quelle impétuosité, pensais-je.Intrusif à ma vie privée,Insensible et provocateur.Le miroir cherchait certainement à me désarmer… ©️ … Continue reading Miroir

Mon cœur, si petit, fragile vaisseau cousu de murmures et de poussière d’étoiles. Et l’amour, mon amour—immense, un tourbillon défiant la gravité, débordant les limites de l’existence. Imaginez-le, l’amour, vagabond sans attaches, flottant dans les courants du vent, traversant les fenêtres ouvertes, effleurant les rideaux, laissant des traces de safran et de désir. Il tombe, non pas dans les bras du destin, mais dans le regard errant de deux yeux couleur crépuscule. Ces yeux contiennent des galaxies, absorbent la lumière des constellations. L’amour s’abandonne, attiré comme un papillon vers la flamme. Puis il s’élève. Il devient rayon de soleil, caressant … Continue reading Petit Amour

When the flowerbed wilts and the chamomile cools, I will brush your hair aside and press my lips to your temple, tending to the fragile blooms of your soul. Though the petals may droop, my touch will be a gentle rain, coaxing life back into them. In your moments of brokenness, I will stitch you together, our scars intertwining into a shared map of resilience. Together, we will transform pain into the bridge that binds us, proving that even raw wounds hold the promise of healing. I vow to be your tourniquet, wrapping myself around you to staunch old hurts … Continue reading Vows

I want a word for the almost-home. that point where the highway’s monotony becomes familiarthat subway stop whose name will always wake you from day’s-end dozingthat first glimpse of the skylinethat you never loved until you left it behind. what do you call the exit sign you see even in your dreams?is there a name for the airport terminal you come back to,comfortably exhausted? I need a word for rounding your corner onto your street,for seeing your city on the horizon,for flying homewards down your highway. give me a word for the boundarybetween the world you went to seeand the … Continue reading 2017

I know that I am strong. I know that I am not some diaphanous piece of chiffon which is easily tossed in the wind before it is no more. A thought. A memory. A whisper of a fantasy. I realize that I am strong and everlasting. Much like the prayer flags I hang on a windy day. My body may break. My heart may fray with much use. It is so open to the world My spirit may even yearn to run. But even broken and battered I still am able to stay true to my purpose. I stay my … Continue reading This is my mantra…

Let me hold up the mirror to my darkest moments, unafraid to meet the reflections of my struggles and scars. In this unflinching gaze, I uncover seeds of transformation. Let my soul’s whispers—its confessions and longings—echo not just through the chambers of my heart, but into the depths of my being. Teach me to listen, not with ears alone, but with an open spirit, attuned to the symphony of my life—the discord and harmony, the crescendos and stillness. Teach me to embrace myself wholly, not just in the warmth of sunlight but amidst the tempest within. In the stillness between … Continue reading Father,

The River, A Storyteller: The river, ancient and wise, whispers tales of forgotten civilizations etched into its banks. It carries memories—of laughter, love, and loss—within its currents. Listen closely, and you’ll hear the echoes of fishermen’s songs and children’s laughter, woven into the very fabric of its flow. Raindrops as Pianists: Raindrops descend like delicate pianists, their fingers tapping on leaves and rooftops. Each note—a promise of renewal. They kiss parched earth, coaxing seeds from their slumber. Life stirs, stretching toward the sky, grateful for this liquid benediction. Ocean’s Lullaby: The ocean, vast and inscrutable, cradles continents in its salty … Continue reading Ripples of Life

I am the woman of my own dreams, a constellation of desires that need no permission to sparkle. No longer do I seek validation from hollow echoes; my worth is etched in stardust and fire. My wishes unfurl like silk ribbons, and the universe nods in agreement. My wish is my command, whispered to the cosmos as I paint my reality with bold strokes. The canvas of my life stretches wide, waiting for the hues of my choosing—crimson courage, azure adventure, and golden resilience.With hands unshackled, I lay each brick upon the foundation of existence. My life is my own, … Continue reading Unapologetically Me