I SPXAK THX LANGUAGX OF LOVX STRAIGHT INTO YOUR XAR
back to suffering


poems about loving and the sorrows of the heart
LO/ GR 
 2018 - 2024 
painkillers
tampons

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Donostia - 2024 - Woman on the street

I saw a woman sitting outside a shop in the middle of the night.
She screamed and cried, intoxicated by what it seemed as pain.

I approached her hesitatingly to ask—only to tell me she needed nobody, wanted no one.

She thanked me as I almost said that I agree, that in the deepest horrors no one is ever enough—and that crying in the street isn't desperate but what everyone should be doing on a weekly basis if they had only a simple understanding of the world around them.

It wasn't empathy I was feeling—but as I sat on a bench ten meters away and heard her sobbing, it felt more like making peace with my own creeping dread.

The violence of emotions that shook her limbs was all so familiar that I almost wanted to thank her for recognising it. I left her alone as I walked back home.

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London - 2024 - Rules For a Rainy Day

1) Go to the museum barefoot
2) Smile to at least 10 strangers 
3) Starve yoursef to exemplify the unbearable cost of living
4) Steal a book (or two)
5) Sit at the very back of a dark room and cry unnoticed 
6) Order an oat late and read a book in Spanish
7) Get worked up at the price of coffee
8) Think about others peoples loneliness to mask your owh
9) Wish to be someone else, older or dead
10) Wait impatiently for the sun 

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London - 2024 - Fake Solace

I find in the arms of men a solace that is unbeatable
as if i can hide all my fears between their arms
When they leave, my bed is mixed with cum and fears
there is a temporary shift of smell in the room
I change the bedsheets only to repeat 
this dreadful, painful ceremony.  

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London - 2024 - Honestly stuffed


I have a lot of great friends
but even greater anxiety

I cannot even write poems that ryme

I cannot even find the perfect dildo

Poetry is all about you
Honestly stuffed with food


I could be in a better place
but I am not

I could have a bigger imagination 
But I do not

On top of this, there are tourists everywhere 
I am smoking too many ciggaretes
I want a divorse from a relationship I do not have 

A nervous cough

Why can’t I ever be satisfied 
Only just before and after orgasming
and even so, only under the right armit.

Who are these people I do not care about?
I want to become everything
I want to be everywhere
I want to lie in my bed

Honestly stuffed with anxst 

I recently met a man who did not drink or smoke
I asked him how he was not suffering
so bluntly faced with the sobriety of the world
It’s dry edges
Doesn’t he have a soul that bleeds?

Honestly stuffed with days 

Stuffed with myself 
Stuffed with your image between my legs as a distant faded memory 
Stuck with myself 
Stuck because it’s busy and cold and really not my city, really not my place.
I don’t always feel this way
But almost everyday.


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Pyrenees - 2024 - Bucket of fish

There is a great loneliness in you and me. 
A bucket of overwhelmed fish, hermetically sealed. 
We both try to open it at different times with various forces. 
It stays unmoved to our efforts. 
Undoubtedly, we both would like to see the fish,
check on their well-being,
maybe even feed them. 
But I look at the sea and I know there is more fish and you go to the lake fishing.
Somewhere in between us there is a bucket of fish, 
and it only exists because we are trying to open it.



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Donostia - 2024 - You are beans

I know I like funny people 
Also that I should stop comparing you to everyone I meet 
It’s easier to say than done 
At least the rest are eating meat 

I have never met anyone who can battle dreams 
I see you at the kitchen table so vividly eating beans 
I wake up wet 
All day it lingers the unwanted remembrance of your sweat

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Greece - 2024 - Nobody warns a cicada that cannot fuck with a maggot

There is this love I like to give you 
Like a caress on an old cat 
Like jumping in the sea on a warm day 
Like a quick kiss in the bar toilets


There is this love I want to give you 
Like watering my plants 
Like flowers to a sick friend 
Like kissing my child goodnight 


There is this love I have to give you 
Like a seatbelt on the highway 
Like extracting an aching tooth 
Like donating my brother’s organs 


There is this love I cannot give you 
Like a plane that just got bombed 
Like the gap where once a leg was 
Like looking straight into the sun with my bare eyes 


Of course it’s absolutely and totally unfair 
Nobody warns a cicada that cannot fuck with a maggot
The one will make the other go deaf 
It’s on the instructions of some forgotten manual 
I kept in my kitchen drawer before it all got burnt 
I don’t even know how such a singer like me 
So brilliantly balanced in the joyful summer
Would even break my carefree song 
and turn and look at you in a moment of forgetful focus 

I liked your slow movement and your shy stares 
The way you looked at me in the beggining
But then you turned into an ugly fly and vanished 
This poem hasn’t changed and I am not very patient with impatient people 
So stop thinking what you are thinking 
This is a poem about love
A love I couldn’t share.


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London - 2024 - Feeling things

I feel things in my hands, my fingers and my feet all the way up to the back of my neck 
I feel things inside my belly and up to my heart that it gets all warm and spills liquid that runs through my eyes 
Every day the sun goes up and down and the spillage keeps my body moist 
When people come near me they can smell a sense of far away oceans that reminds them of something strange and exotic  
I have travelled these lands that we see in postcards with my arms and hips open 
Rolled in varicoloured grasses 
The smell tho, is just my tears. 


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2021


The left side of the road 
I am in the left side
The right side 
Is the left side
The right side of the road 
His footsteps clang on the floor 
On his way down the pavement 
He is right - I don’t look for more 
No matter how bright the lights shine 
It’s the little cut on my finger I will look at 


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2019


Sometimes I think that the palm of my hand 
Is your palm 
I rest it on my bellybutton 
Then I start to move it in small circles 
And I hear my insights growling with pleasure


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2019


Cities like flames
Cities exploding 
Cities like tsunamis 
Cities collapse 
Cities of my heart 
Cities of people
Cities like weeping 
They drive you in their core 
Leaving you ashore 
Cities with palm trees 
Cities with rain 
Cities that love you 
Cities that pain 
It’s you against them 
Cities of fame 
Tiny giant cities 
Everywhere you look there’s buildings 
Cities that rape and murder 
Cities where first kisses unfold 
Cities where you met a girl in a red dress
Cities you smoked and you fell naked on your bed 
Cities where you were alone 
Cities when you saw her gone 
The stains on the beds remain 
You look outside your window to the city
In vain.



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2019 - When I felt in love with Patrick

How these warm and friendly streets 
Appear so blunt and distant 
Kin faces with nice white smiles 
Bore and leave me slumbering
I look in their eyes
But mine are empty 
The churches are slowly fading colours 
The shinny boulevards under this summer rain 
Reflect my quivering
I feel so much older than everyone 
So much heavier 
I am not blue only at dusk 
But a heavy dust falls on my hair 
And I have to carry it with me everywhere 
My gaze hunts for a worthy distraction 
But keeps bumping into shadows 
I don’t want to make you feel guilty 
That you have once showed me the real colour of the world and now I cannot see it without you. 
I am certain my eyes will soon adjust to the usual greyness of the everyday 
(Beige atmospheric hues)
Fun will remain the same 
And I will forget how when on top of you 
I would close my eyes
And feel it all
As if nothing else existed 


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2019


The moon shines over the Venetian castle 
Full, complete 
Why do you create this hustle ?
It shouts with a strong concrete sound
Don’t forget about your love 
Don’t look on the ground 
I put my sunglasses on 
A memory that flies towards me 
Lustful, painful and strong 
I pick up my phone 
I want to write to you, 
It’s been so long
The impossibility of our happiness 
Leaves me numb and alone 
I would leave you in peace 
If I could only find ease 
In the bodies of others
In their embrace 
Their fingers on my face
Fuck this 
I need you 
That’s why I write by myself
Cause you don’t have a clue 
How your face keeps appearing 
While I push it away with force 
Trying to find a close 
Between me and you
I have to understand it’s not a pause 
I have accepted the cause 
I know the effects 
I just have to walk away

2018


If the meaning of life was 40
My hair would have the colour of grass
And the smell of rain
I would have a house in the mountains 
Where I keep my books 
And I show them to you 
And you seem happy to visit my silence 
And we stay there on the wooden floors 
Happy and never hungry
If the meaning of life was 40
I would let you walk with me and greet the owls that are hidden in my garden
So we sit there underneath their eyes 
Counting their shine in the darkest hours
Wishing we knew the meaning of life 
If the meaning of life was 40
I would let you open the door that I keep shut in the upper floor
Where on a corner lay
stills of lives forgotten
And we look at ourselves with different hair and clothes and lovers 
And they all show different truths and different meanings 
And maybe you are scared 
So I smile a warm lie

If the meaning of life was 40
I would have a large window 
Lighting up the room where I draw
portraits of religious leaders 
Than in my dreams turn up 
As suffering faces that I hold 
And you put your hand on the oils
And draw a smile on my face 
If the meaning of life was 40
I would go to to the lake each morning
And the water would make my skin shiver
And my lips would turn red 
Before I pick up Jasmine tea to put in silver tea pots 
And have breakfast with eggs on toast and mushrooms that would be magic 
And then I would walk you to the forest
Our hands sweaty and mouths dry 
And we would see the realities of being
And realise that the meaning of life is not 40 anymore. 
And maybe we are sad because when the meaning of life was 40
We were free in our own prison

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2018


My cheeks turned hot 
A burning sensation,
And I holded my hand between my legs 
I breathed in and then out and then in again
Your thought turned into sweat 
And I hide my face under the duvet 
I counted the times you came inside me 
In my head 
And it became a secret poem 
I don't wish you were here cause it would be wrong 
I think of your warmth instead and recreate it
Between the pillows ,
My hair tangled.
You will never appreciate this poem,
So shut my mouth and fuck me.

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2019

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2019


There is something ominous about this sun 
Green lights , upward streets 
Highways meeting freeways frequently
People’s homes on the sidewalks 
You cannot walk in the large pavements 
Other people’s gardens 
Shady trees sometimes
Or else, flaming car tops accelerating
A lady with a red parasol 
Walking up the hill 
Closer to the sun; the ominous yellow sun 
People are few
Scattered 
Walking in front of giant backdrops
They smile 
Almost like a crazy person smile 
The museum in the distance 
Like a safe place 
It looks like you won’t reach it 
You keep walking 
Olive trees ?
Shade 
An iced lemonade 
Big and plastic 
But cold , at least 
You are at the bottom 
And above you fifty floors of steel
The sunsets dive behind 



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2018

Nobody will know if you watched one  porn one time
Think of it as a documentary
It’s just a sexy documentary 
It’s a sexy documentary 
A hot doc 



2016


There are some days
When the grey skies
Have adopted an ever darker face
And in it you can see your own 
Mouth
Bleeding 
Eye
Weeping 
In those days inside you
A cockroach is moving 
Taping 
You forget 
You remember then more intensively 
When she moves 
With her antennas proposed 
Sliding 
You fear that she will go 
And leave your stomach empty 
Of fear 
Any emotion is accepted 
Nothing is worse 
Than fear
Nothing is worse than everything 
You fear 
Maybe nothing 
Is what you fear 
These days 
You wish you had a sponge 
To wipe them off 
Sweep the clouds away 
Sniff a line of K
To empty again 
The grey to turn white 
Lines
Clouds 
Empty 
Nothing 
Fear is an emotion 
Better than nothing 


2016


Your arms
To look 
To touch me right here
To hold me 
In the place 
Where breathing
Is impossible 
And not important 
At the place 
Between your arms 
Where odours are combined 
After me and you 
Become one
For a second
That feels like 
An earthquake 
Aged 
Ready to blow
For years waiting 
To explode 
Explore 
These arms 
Holding me down 
Safe 
And free