you look back at me. the night is silent in its tender way. I can tell that there is things we’ve been meaning to say. there are words left unspoken. phrases still lingering. feelings to puzzle out. your bedlamp shines, the shadows contour your face. there is so much I recognize, much to be wary of, and much still unsaid. I wait for the days to lengthen, for love to reach the surface. our eyes meet and we will learn how to speak.
maart, er zit iets hoopvols in je stem
maart, er zit iets hoopvols in je stem. iets terugvinden dat je was verloren. je fluistert dat het lente wordt. een krokus naast de bushalte. nog niet afgetrapte sneakers. er schijnt licht vanachter de gordijnen. pak mijn hand vast. maart, ik ga met je mee.
a monument of love.
dad, I think about you too. you are there in every rustle in the trees, in the crates of fresh fruits, the first sip of coffee in the morning, in needing not much, in simple moments, in being free on the road.
mom, it is always nice to hear your voice. you are there the smalltalk with strangers, in the signatures of painters, in the keepsake I carry, in every flowerbed, in doing it despite, in carrying on.
there is a remembrance, always. my heart is full and I can close my eyes, the sun on my face. I am me, always a daughter, always set free, a monument of love, a city of dreams.
and I don’t even know why I worry. I can’t explain the doubts – they’re mine, cause you don’t make me question this. it might be love. it is lovely and you’re loving and I feel loved. it is all so unusual and still you feel like home.
I wonder /
I wonder / if we will meet again / where you are when I think about you / why you didn’t love me / , do you think about me still / if you know that I still do / would I want to know to answer / where we went wrong / if we would have been happy / why you didn’t try / if you regret it / if you know that I could forgive you / why I still hope to forgive you / , foolishly / and it’s all I have left of you.
darling, we will laugh and we will cry. there are days to get through. some a given, some a burden. there will be happy tears and other won’t be happy. some remind us that we overflow in order to find our way again.