aster novi-belgii

© anaïs avila, 2013-2015

[anais-avila]

morning burst

a gleaming window surrounded by whites as hygienic as the whites of this page you read -

get out watch the sky above and believe it all

persons wander and falling leaves play with the wind which mixes my hair and my breaths

stop smell the blue and keep believing it all

we never knew how much love mattered till it didn’t mattered and we did have nothing

carry on collect your stuff then, go.

[anais-avila]

nada permanece

un animal disecado me mira

yo le miro -

creo que llorar por la quietud.

han pasado 73 días

y sigo frente a una pantalla led -

creo que lloro por la quietud.

***

piensas que el mundo se mueve deprisa, que los coches navegan las avenidas veloces, que los peatones no dejan de dejar huellas blandas en las aceras, que las trayectorias de las golondrinas no cesan, que los chem trails sobre tu cabeza corren de polo a polo, que la dirección del viento cambia, se mantiene, pero no se detiene.

piensas en un río, fluyendo eterno. ciclo infinito. te bañas en un agua que ya se ha ido, tras haberte lamido piel y hiel, fría como puñales de acero templado. fría como las verdades. como la filosofía. agua que se amontona en tus oídos y piensas en heráclito, quien hablaba de esos ríos. y piensas en cómo el tiempo aquel de los presocráticos en una clase con 43 pupitres se ha ido. y no te importa, porque has crecido.

***

mi afición del verano es escuchar la misma canción en bucle. ayer escuché una canción de reguetón 65 veces. antes de ayer escuché una canción de rap 51 veces. mañana escucharé una canión de jazz n veces.

mientras, esta pantalla led y esa jineta disecada me miran y el tiempo discurre sinuoso por mi epidermis y yo le dejo irse porque da igual donde vaya:

no hay ventanas,

ni formas de contener el desierto en botellas.

no hay amores eterno,

ni modo de registrar todas las estrellas fugaces.

***

me quedo quieta,

me duermo,

me muero.

[anais-avila]

love poem

i didn't wear socks on the first day of spring in Kalamazoo that day ended up in a blizzard of whiney skirts and too much skin as i drank my chocolate cookie smoothie you were solving equations on your notebook (boring).

i wondered how would it be to play hide and seek at the library and let my hands delve into your clothes and skin or taste your saliva while smelling <i>eau de old books</i>, but you weren't listening or ready to have fun.

i ordered breezes of green grass and pickles to go. my mom used to tell me how badly i was behaving and i felt as if i would have skipped too many Sunday masses - the Lord may forgive me (He might forgive me not).

i don't know why i pictured the battle between a waxed jacket and a pair of cowboy boots as the quarrel among old and modern, letters and numbers, literature and calculation   but we were always the losers.

i lost too many kisses laying in the bed of a college dorm i had a lover waiting overseas that i killed (no regrets) i would kill him many more times with anger psycho killer, crime of (bored to dead) passion.

kilometers are conventions like the way i love you or the order of the courses in a meal -

kilometers are fake: space made a whole - nothingness turned important somehow.

it's been 975 days since we exchanged words for the last time. i didn't know you were leaving and it really didn't matter.

you knocked back at my door with virtual messages like a dead man coming back to life as a <b>zombi</b> - all i know is that i will risk my life to give it a try

even if you eat me up / even if i die.

[anais-avila]

lit light bulb

the tongue grew long and chatty as the leaves turned bright shades of green and black - words sprang.

silence embraces your scars and the materialized regrets but keeps the demureness locked down

words sprang no matter the season the snow the zephyr the heat the pollen.

open the door to the stained air: love’s lost but nothing else...

[anais-avila]

mandatory life cycle

stop i should stop quit i should quit nevermind if i ever was happy or if i will ever be it again or never again (who knows, who cares) - i've seen so far a handful of countries quite many sunsets and i've made love to a couple of sunrises. poems take my fate away i write what i want to become, what i should be - a dozen mouths have tasted mine ideas have sprout in my brain and i grew wiser (less dumber, we'll say). there's no pit-stop neither finish line i must breathe till i rest.

[anais-avila]

oquedad (?)

aún me pregunto si tengo espacio en el hueco que hay entre mi entrañas que pueda albergar tanta belleza, tanta tristeza.

[anais-avila]

la quimera de la bella europa

querer lo que no te quiere anhelar la otra orilla hecha de quimera y azufre

querer lo que no te quiere confiarle tu traje de vida a las olas azules

querer lo que no te quiere perder el aliento en manos de falsos tahúres.

- en recuerdo de todas esas esperanzas que el mediterráneo se ha tragado

[anais-avila]

preterite pretexts

i spent the longest night the world have seen under your gaze, among your sheets, above your thorax, sharing your breath -

steps echoing the crave for a better living, for a proper lover led us to the hole of our memory

and we dove into the deepness of each other’s souls as if we were speleogists or a jules verne’s character.

we found nothing:

a wasteland with no oasis of hope that could calm the thirst our maimed tongues exhaled of red bursting life and milky dainty skin.

drained veins empty cavities lonely mitochondriae muted life -

you spent the longest night the world have seen with somebody lost in time, forgotten in space, erased from your spine.

[anais-avila]

derivada

ya no te veo en mis derivas - la gran belleza de la hipotética yuxtaposición de nuestros cuerpos, una ecuación de segundo grado resuelta, luego el ocaso negro, sin telos, perdido en la llanura rala. ahora solo herrumbre en nuestras bocas, pasos amortiguados en una orilla olvidada.

[anais-avila]

[anais-avila]

[anais-avila]

[anais-avila]

[anais-avila]

mili

(al indie español en general)

se busca:

camarada para alistarse

en brigada paramilitar y dual.

se requieren:

activismo entre sábanas caqui

y consignas de revolución sexual.

[anais-avila]

alomejores

tienes cara de para toda la vida y de que te invite a tomar helado. me gustaría lamerte los dedos mientras los pájaros se van a dormir

-también -

tienes cara de que vaya a doler y de que te lleve una noche a bailar. me gustaría soplarte en un ojo mientras tu seso se impregna de mí.

[anais-avila]

[anais-avila]

farewell

this lake cannot help. the horizon erased, shades of grey and sleepy blue. shy waves lick the dock. slight aquatic murmur.

i built a new self for myself, a house of cards too close to a windy city. the time for the collapse ia settled.

the bluebirds on my chest dived into the lake and committed suicide. i drowned a suitcase full of memories too heavy to be carried:

// a hazel beard // french accent // tanned cheeks // a virgin // nonsense conversations // booze and hip-hop lyrics // japanese pictures // a pair of cowboy boots // the constellation of moles on his back // blue moons // a horse-teethed frank smile // hindu soccer // glittery snowflakes //

the laked swallowed everything calmly, voraciously, quietly.