Sunday, October 11, 2009

the crystal palace



how do you live your days in a crystal palace? who has the strength to remove the spiderwebs when the day is done? who could possibly hide amongst such brightness? without thinking too much, living in a crystal palace is like living on the moon. the days go by covered in glittering dust and unexpected gleams of blinding light, when you look out the window, you can see swans and white flowers floating over a calmed stream of water. after all these years of shed tears over you i can see the place where i live again, this shelter of shine and living poetry. the floors are eternally white, the walls are covered in a soft orchid color, there are possibilities again, there is light in the place your shadow overtook. in spite of the immense sadness, my face holds the same candor of a tuberose, perfectly young and expressionless, for the first time in a very long while i feel like a sphinx searching for its own reflection in a frozen lake, it doesn’t mean i can’t feel a thing but that i do not know how to show it in its desperate depth. in my crystal palace there are plenty of things, some of them are terrible, some are precious. there are shields and masks, butterfly kings and opaque prisms, a lovely ruby colour for lips and songs to whisper in the dark. in my crystal palace there are entire rooms stained with memories of you, of the nights we lived together, of the countless caresses, the names you gave to me, the beauty you bestowed upon me and the promises you never kept.

all around this palace there’s an air scented with pure white flowers, for the first time in years, my air is not scented with you, for the first time in a very long while i can smell the scent of my own soul.

in this palace there is a place for the past that once was with you, but there is no place for you anymore. there is no place for the pain you bring, for the first time i am alone and there is nothing to fear.

every night, in this crystal palace i can listen to the beautiful song of the flower that never dies












these tiny things make up a life,
my life without you.

No comments: