>ponovili smo vajo, spet dobla stavo. w00t 🙂

“this means nothing,” she’ll spend the day repeating
convincing herself her longing is depleting »

it was just a look, that bite of her lips purely random
but she’ll burn it in her head like a UN memorandum »

she imagines the touch of tongue and its thrilling
to wake up in her bed is almost chilling »

and tho these digital bits are nothing but my slur
maybe i do wish our meeting would reoccur. »

>sreda se je pocasi spreminjala v
cetrtek, sekunde vecera so monotono
izginjale z vsako minuto, edina energija
v stanovanju v mackovem dihanju.

spet je bila tista ura noci, ko gredo
misli prosto pot, a kaj, ko so prekleto neoriginalne.
nekako vedno pristanem na njenih
ustnicah. kot neskoncna igra v prostem verzu.

se zadnjic na hitro pogledam linije
tatuja, v glavi odvrtim film njenih dotikov
in iz napol sna me zbudi njen sms,
“zdej bi bla s tabo.”

>manjsa zajebancija na twitterju z eno kolegico. je rekla, da ne morem. dobro, spoken word res ni moja najmocnejsa stran, ampak jbg, tok slabo mi pa spet ne gre.
rezultat spodaj.

i could smell the secrets that lingered on her breath;
staring into my eyes, choking on words that were messing with her head »

and whilst shes desperately trying to find something to jest at;
i wonder what bullshit line of mine she fell for flat »

was it depth of her eyes, touch of her tongue, shape of her lower lip?
does she not know its a one-way ticket on a pleasure trip? »

consumed by lust, rush of forgotten emotions, that awkward gaze
each kiss, meshing bodies, all end in a melodic phrase: »

“call you tomorrow i will, we’ll sit and talk, over orange juice and toast.”
in reality, 5 twits youll get… at the most. »

>you talk about freud and how he intrigues your
mind with his sexual innuendos and ravishing
philosophical sentences that have no end.

you adore oscar wilde and dorians depressing self
reflects in your polished one word replies,
carefully ended with a full-stop. emoticons non-existent.

you say soulmates never die, believe in endless
romance, long for that perfect moment, for that
spark that ignites the touch.

i dont acknowledge soulmates, its only despair.
1890 was a bad year for literature,
and freud was on cocaine.

so,
tell me this:
what are you doing with me?

>presenetis me med vrati sobe. jaz odhajam, ti si prisla.
naslonim se na steno, opazujem otrocjad med igro pikada, cakam nate.
zivcna sem.
koncno se le vrnes iz sobe. teh par trenutkov se je zdelo kot vecnost.
primem te za roko. zmedena si, vidim ti na obrazu.
“mudi se mi. ne zdaj.”

skoraj povlecem te v tvojo sobo, zaprem vrata.
stojis sredi sobe, pri koncu postelje.
gledas me s tistim “zakaj delas to?” izrazom.
stopim blizje k tebi. “babe..”
ne dovolis, da dokoncam stavek, umaknes se k vratom.
z roko na kljuki glasno izdihnes in sklonis glavo.

moje plitko dihanje cutis na tilniku.
z ustnicami se narahlo dotaknem tvoje koze. treses se.
spustis kljuko in se pocasi obrnes, z glavo nikoli vec kot par centimetrov od moje.
poslusam najino dihanje, ko zacutim tvojo dlan na obrazu.
situacija je prevec zame.
ce bi vedela, kako je cutit nevihto v trebuhu, potem bi to bilo to.
zaprem oci, ne prenesem vec pogleda tvojih modrih oci.

“oprosti.” recem impulzivno.

konica tvojega jezika na mojem mi se vedno pospesi utrip.
tvoje mehke ustnice veliko predobro pasejo mojim.
svet okoli naju izgine, se posebej njegov srebrn avto na dovozu.
znana blizina tvojega telesa ob mojem, prepletanje prstov…

“baby, kul je.” reces, ko zapres vrata za sabo in me pustis samo.

>memories of you
jack on the rocks
morning after
who the fcuk is she?!

>i counted the exhales of warm air as the light
from the atm exposed your lips
something startles you, you look at me and pause
“you have that ‘i want to kiss you’ look. stop it.”

but i didnt.

evening went, night was settling in, memories
flushed back in your words. i said ‘lets go out
for a smoke’, you hesitated but followed me
with a smile nonetheless.

i only endured 2min of talk before the kiss.

soft fingers tracing my lips, the feel of your
hand gloves on my cheek, forgetting everything
that wasnt you, your hands holding my face
and your dark brown eyes piercing right thru me.

you linger.

pressing your forehead at my lips, like you
needed it to breathe. you turn and leave me
there, with the city lights you so love, and
i held your taste in my mouth

for days.

>ugotavljam, da nihce ne ostane v mojem zivljenju prav dolgo.
lahko bi se kregali o definiciji casa. zelo preprosto bi bilo kazat s prstom, kdo je kriv in kdo je samo stal zraven in pustil, da so se nekatere stvari zgodile.
nic od tega ni pomembno.

in sedaj hoce it se ona.
na dolocen nacin je ze sla, sedaj bi samo se zategnila zanko.
pravi, da mi je poskusala zadevo dopovedat na lep in na grd nacin. v glavi se mi vrtijo ene in iste misli.
njenega racia niti ne registriram. mogoce bi ga, ce bi bila v to stvar vpletena samo racionalno.

in sedaj bi ona sla.
nekam stran. na tretji tir. dok ne zakapiram. dok me ne neha bolet.
kot da imam kaksno kontrolo nad tem.
te bedaste emocije.

ne gre se za mazohizem.
ni to razlog, zakaj se še vedno hocem zagledat v njene modro/zelene/sive oci.
kako ji naj dopovem?
direkt v obraz mi je potrebno vrzt dejstvo, da nje “ni” vec.

veckrat. konstantno.
scasoma bom pac otopela.
ja, v zacetku bo bolelo. zelo. ne morem ji lagat.
in zakaj bi sploh skrivala?

da bo lazje njej?

>its that time again when my phone is full
of your late-night messages, before subtle
sexual innuendos turned into shameless
booty calls and urgent requests for release.

you get in my car, the dark gray interior
still goes well with your jackets purple lining.
so many times we’ve created a secret here, its
our own little bubble where reality doesnt hit.

politeness lingers in the air, you choke on the
words, diplomacy is messing with your head.
youre different, cold.
what happened to you?

you try to mask your shallowness, its so sexy
how you pretend to care. every time you leave
you take the risk, knowing i might not be
there. i guess it doesnt matter to you, does it?

i wonder why is this, the craving for your “youre
what i want.” bullshit. i know youll drop me soon.
im a fool, but it doesnt make me want you any less.
you know it, too.

>she grabs my hand, interlaces her fingers
with mines. few moments pass, she realises
what shes done, lets go and starts to explain.
“im a touchy-feely person. hope you dont mind.”
i didnt. i loved it.

i follow her between racks of clothes, she
wiggles her fingers, trying to divert my
attention from tshirts to her hand, telling me
thats where my hand is supposed to be, and
really, what was i waiting for?

thumbs playing a never ending tug war, tips
stroking lightly over knuckles, palms resting
against each other. our hands fit so perfectly
together, her quest for my hand became addictive.

then one day she stopped.