poems

do you remember? I squeezed the cherry juice on your collarbone - heart beats...
do you remember? I was looking for remedy for your insomnia and your uncolored dreams ..
do you remember? our late rides and the silence of the nameless streets ..
do you remember? the sea wave in the night, the wave that drawn us...
do you remember? the sand, the stars falling down and the campfire made out of the moccasin ​​ash ...
do you remember how the guitar string sang and you sang along with it: "my friend in passing by - the road wind..."?
do you remember: lavender, lemon and almonds and the candle shades drawing patterns on the wall..?
do you remember the handwritten letter and the writing slanting with the signature that was in love with you?
do you remember the depth of our glances over the accidental touch of our shoulders and arms?..
I remember ... and by the way ... not a word about it, I keep quiet ...
and then .. not now .. no need ..
I remember...

you know
in my next life
i will be a trout
with rainbow scales and
pink-feather fins -
to cut the streams of water
and swim against the current
in the glare of the sun,
in the reflections of mica,
kissing the colored stones
with my lips,
eating grass and moths
for breakfast...
and it will be one morning
you will return to the creek.
you'll be twisting
a random cigarette 
till it touches
your lips...
and you will say
"how quiet it is here
and how blissful...
i want so much to be
lucky in love .. "
you will look down
at the tiny ripples of the stream 
and you will understand (extraordinarily!):
"I look like you, 
you, Stream of Water!"
you will think:
"this watercolor pebbles ..
and this rainbow flare -
maybe there is a trout fish 
down there... deep down.
I feel so good here
hugging 
with the coolness of the stream ... "
and i... i will read your thoughts
out from the water
breathless...
you know, I am silent not because
I can not speak
-
but simply because 
there is a difference between:
"i am loved and
i love"

I want it so much (almost r.brautigan to my daughter Masha)
I want to mix all the colors in the world drop by drop - and it will be .. your laughter when you read letters from those who are in love with you, those who are as crazy as you are..
I want everyone to cut the salad the way you do it - like music, barely touching the knife, and so that later it smells of honey ..
I want to voice the world with the flexibility of your fingers when you wash the windows in our house and the day becomes transparent like a mirror in which infinity is visible ..
I want to give tenderness of your eyes to the strict policemen who stop us at the curb to check if we had one or two because we are too happy ..
I want everyone to move like you - like rhapsody in blue, like jazz
I want to paint the sky in strawberry (straw-berry blond) - the color of your hair and write at the crossroads: "no traffic lights - travel safe on blue light",
when I want it so much, it finally turns to be true ...

he said: " I would like to hear your voice... "
do you want to hear my voice?
you know, I think this is a song of silence
do you remember the woman who gets undressed slowly? 
my voice is the color of her skin
it is the color of the light of the double flame in that room
it is the taste of her lips
it is the bend in her smile. 
there are all the objects with which your room is filled up with: 
confusion and chaos of their immobility, 
harmony and tranquility of their quiet animation
these are also the items that you can not see 
because you believe that you do not see them
because you believe that they do not exist
this is something you can never take with you
this is what connects the forgotten together
it is the smell of darkness and separation by distance and time
it is the end and the beginning, but it is not forever
it is the hot bread on the cold night when you have no one to share your little victory with 
this is ice on the hot, dense, honey-like day when you share your loneliness with friends
it is a spray of the sun in the early morning through the open wide window into which summer flies in
this is something that does not belong to you as it does not belong to me
remember? - the rainbow trouts are always silent, so are the wise trees...

your name is like caress of your hot hands
your name is a vicious circle over water
your name is a quiet flight into silence
your name will not open my lips
your name is a soaring autumn leaf
your name is a gun shot up high
your name is a swallow, an elixir of souls
your name is spring in the reflections of the puddles
it is unpredictability of beingness
am I in your name?

red rose, leave me!
I am not worthy of your love.
you and I are so different:
I am in motion, you are in peace.
you - swim in the glare of the sun,
rave about bees and fall into foliage;
me - fly the path of the mountain
turn the wind over the waterfall.
you - bloom your buds, barb with your thorns,
velvet your petals and 
gloss your five-shadows-leaves.
me - glade above the words strings,
be an artist's brush
draw the water dance... 
leave me, you, red rose!