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The Truth Has Three Sides

Actualizado: 27 dic 2021

by: Sabrina Benamin


I

I drink my coffee black every morning

I like how looking at you makes me feel

twice I asked to kiss you,

the second time there was a lump in my throat

I like to believe it was a metaphor,

a plain tumor is all it was.


I have woken up, looked in the mirror and thought

okay, I look good today

If I am late it is because I don't know how to plan time

cut to me blushing, laughing

of course we were no full moon.


In my poems you are the dream of you.

the falling stars are just glitter

just thousands of tiny LED lights poured down from the sky.


That July was a fire that minded its own business

the following June was just thirty days

the moon was a strawberry.

It wasn't the drugs

the shadows on the ceiling weren't dancing again.


I was walking backwards when I met you.

you are not the first boy who I wrote into existence,

or loved

that thought unties my shoelaces.


once we were a crescent moon

weightless as a smile

I love you still I'm not sorry I don't want to write about you anymore

so let's see how long we can go without talking.

this time if we really try

maybe I will forget your birthday


I miss you, but I don't wish you were here.


II

you don't like coffee

you like what it does to your body

you like the way coffee makes your body feel

so you take your cream and sugar with coffee

I'm not sure why you kissed me back the first time

I suspect you liked what it did to your body

you liked the way my kiss made you feel

once I let you wrap your hands around my neck

to feel the tumor ride my throat like an elevator.


you wear sweat shorts,

and I still want to fuck you.

once you gave me a bouquet of pink roses,

or was it a fury of your puckered lips.


when your elbow found mine after a year of our mouths not speaking

I was not happy,

I was relieved.


Once you said a person is either a peacekeeper or a pot stirrer

we both knew which I am,

I bet you think you're a peacekeeper

I bet you think magicians don't exist


you are the first dizzy windspell

to trip my tornado.

Once you smiled in my direction

and balloon on the loose there I went

so high I forgot who came first,

you,

or the dream of you.


you told me once after work you took the train all the way west

to watch the sunset,

only to miss it

you said you were so glad you made it to me

on time.


If you came back

I would not ask why.


you may say none of this ever happened.


III I like my coffee black

you don't like coffee

you like what it does to your body

you like the way it makes your body feel

so you take your cream and sugar with coffee every morning.

This is not about you.

I just like how looking at you makes me feel.


twice I asked to kiss you

the second time

how you said " I don't think I can give you what you want"

really not sure why you kissed me back the first time.

I suspect you liked what it does to your body

you liked the way my kiss made you feel


Once there was a lump in my throat

I like to believe it was a metaphor

for every feeling I have ever swallowed.

a plain tumor is all it was.

See how this is my story.


I have woken up,

looked in the mirror and thought,

Damn ! I look good today,

and you wear sweat shorts

in public

and I still want to fuck you.

once you gave me a bouquet of pink roses

or was it a fury of your puckered lips


if I am late it is because

I was too anxious to leave

I don't know how to plan time

so when your elbow found mine in that crowd

after a year of our mouths not speaking

I was not happy

I was mad I was relieved

cut to me blushing, laughing

of course

weren't you dancing beside me ?

but we were no full moon.


once you said a person is either a peace keeper or a pot stirrer

we both knew which I am

I bet you still think you're a peacekeeper.


In my poems you are the dream of you

maybe in this alternate universe where the falling stars

were just glitter

just thousands of tiny LED lights poured down from the sky.

that July was a fire that minded itself

and the following June was just thirty days.

the moon was a strawberry,

it might have been the drugs

but the shadows on the ceiling were not dancing again.


I was walking backwards when I met you

I made all of this magic

and I bet you think magicians don't exist.

well you are not the first boy who I have wrote into existence,

or loved.

you are just the first dizzy wind spell

to trip my tornado.


that time you smiled in my direction

and balloon on the loose there I went

so high

I forgot who came first,

you

or the dream of you,

and it's that thought

that unties my shoelaces.

because once we were a crescent moon weightless

as a smile,


and I love you,

still,

I'm not sorry

I just can't write about you anymore

So let's see how long we can go without talking

this time, I will really try to forget your birthday

maybe,

If you came back,

I would not ask why I miss you

but I do not wish you were here.


and you may say none of this ever happened

but all the details sure fit

so abracadabra.




Oslo Noviembre 2, 2021

11:45 am

 

(por si quieren ver a la poeta declamandolo)




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