A Moment of Weakness …

“I love you as certain dark things are to be loved, in secret, between the shadow and the soul.”
― Pablo Neruda

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To J.

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I need to feel that you are real,
you exist.
I want to face your mahogany eyes,
slow agony.
I desire to see you undress me,
to see me glow.
Breaths past trembling,
turning kisses into shadowless sounds.
I demand to know that
you can pull me in close.
I wish I could be able
to run to you.
I crave to shiver
listening to your heart.
And chase the wrinkles
in your smile,
even if it’s wrong,
I want skies in flamingo flames.

And that’s how it will be.
The nights filled
with waves,
passion and more waves,
will glitter together
with the falling on the marble
shirt buttons.
And the ghosts that
create time and distance,
they will asphyxiate
in the lonely blood of
their dark minds,
and I will run into you,
with eyes, hazel- like,
from the candle lights,
with summer on my skin,
with iridescent lips,
with fierce,
drunk with stars love,
to cover us both.

… only in my deep sleep.

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© 2013  Broken Sparkles

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Journey on the road ahead

Journey on the road ahead

Behind the curtains of immortality
angels cry for the time gone,
for the moments left in albums alone.

I wear bruises looking back at mornings
with electric lilac and summer snow, agonizing
over lost triumph and lust, burning moonstones.

Living alone in legends of whispers,
sealing the shadows of serpents in envelopes,
a vow to the bright sun is silently dedicated.

The imperfection of yesterday I will ignore
to immerse into the light of secret mist,
as long as I have a journey on the road ahead

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“The road ahead” by Blaga Todorova

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© 2012  Broken Sparkles

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Adagio for my 200 blog post

This poem was written in October last year, but it is my favorite from all my poems, so I decided to post it again, and since this is my 200 post, I wanted it to be special!

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Adagio

by Blaga Todorova

between melodies and lyrics,
between beats and strings
touched by the fever of lovers passion
and sweetly bruised lips,
bright, burgundy music
stirred in white roses and in longing
moves like a sultry wind.
for every second of a burning day,
for every ray of moonlight
and every time a candle follows a dawn
and with every breath that I gasp, aching,
I miss the sound of your heart,
the trails of hands in my memories
and on my skin.

a humid fantasy, as if you are
next to me or at least your shadow
and inside a soft, artistic, sugary laughter
like a river under a melting snow,
like a  gravitating summer
in the rhythm of fragile voices,
like a crystal picture frame
surrounding two happy faces,
when there is a promise
for an amaranthine night,
and there is a song of flowers
growing blind but beautiful,
and an absence of rhymes
in the distant whispers,
or maybe just blurs
out of a Persian poet’s mind.

but the truth is,
the stars once reflecting inevitably
in the green of your eyes,
the mystery constantly leading
the logic away from the silk bed,
the feeling of togetherness
almost reaching out an altar,
demand, daring, to bring back
the last kiss survived,
and there is a chaos of questions
trying to hurt the air,
and a pas de deux never meant to end,
and a luminous harmony in a forgotten adagio.

* * * * *

If you can’t see the video posted on YouTube, click HERE.

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© 2012  Broken Sparkles

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