Category: Pink

Love poem for a boy: Physics study hall

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Love poem for a boy: Physics study hall

There was a boy with a voice like yours in the physics study hall
I thought it was you
I could feel myself glowing
A little bit
But when I looked in his direction
I only saw my own reflection
In the clear glass of the windowpane
And I looked so gentle
So foggy, so full of you
So full of it
(Hope)

It comforted me
Me there, temporarily filled with bliss
Listening to a voice that was just like yours
Of a guy that was distant, too, but reminiscent in ways
That surpassed my expectations
But ruined them at the same time
(I wanted you, there)
(I wanted you, standing, there)

While I was editing my little daily tasks in my peony-covered black planner
Carbon black
Panic attack
So remarkable, engrained with tact
Grab me right back
Panic attack
Hold me like that
Crisp edges
Distant, so distant, so distant it seems

Lake Michigan, Chicago, Illinois

Take hold of me
Run with me through the pouring, strong but absently delicate rain
Ask me about my past
Tell me about back home
Where your parents are from
Where your sister lives, with her husband, and why you’re not married
By now
In your late thirties

Tell me about the years that you came of age
To blossom, to endure
Rabbit holes
Soft edges
How you became a man
Sharp, marked silhouette, dark fragrance
Cascading vision
Bold and crimson
Smooth and hollow
Ambient surfaces
Ribbons tied with cherry-lined trails
Puddles on the ground and clusters of snails
The stillness seeps beneath me so absentmindedly

I’m reading about
Restriction enzymes
Wondering what I’m going to say to you
When I see you
And I’m wearing my Chicago Cubs baseball cap
Because I know you’re a Dodgers fan
And I wonder
To myself
If you’re going to say something
About that
Fact

And you
Didn’t
And I’m alone now, in the car
About to drive the fourty miles home
Not vacant because I’m too whole to begin with, to be disembodied
But still
Not knowing
Which fragrance you wear
And seeing
Your long blonde hair
Falling alongside your bold, hardened face
That was not looking
In my
Direction

Like a marble that rolls far, far away from you
I thought I heard you in the physics study hall
But I only saw my reflection in a still-glass superficial surface

And that told me all I had to know

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Love poem for him: earthquake

distantcaveLeave a comment

Love poem for him: earthquake

You know I stopped myself before I could love you
But
We broke apart
And I can’t help but stare
At your blank, sad face
And the only thing sad about it
Is that you’re not afraid to let me go
You’re not afraid to let

I tried to wake up
But I’m always on the wrong side of the bed
We never got to have that night in the hotel
We never got to have that heavenly first dance
The first and the last pages don’t make me too sad
It’s the way the world turns
Your fingers latched on
Not very tight
Like a blouse that’s unloosened
A foggy memory that never becomes clear

I’m trying to relive the skyscrapers and unraveling chaos
Though all that comes to mind in abstract vision and delusion,
Is you screaming in my direction
Telling me to stop
Telling me to stop
Telling me to stop

What makes you so afraid
To show love to an unloved person
The way you play guitar
It makes me so sad
It makes me so sad
Not for anything do you feel bad
Like grey, fallen embers on a cold winter night
Even though you’d say you’d never
Be there for me
Your sovereignty
Your power

And I remember you
Telling me to stop
Telling me to stop
Telling me to
Telling me to stop

Feeling the things that only I do
The distance that separates me from jagged, carbon you
In ocean waves, we grasp at what feels familiar
What’s underneath us will quench our thirst
Yours, preferably
Mine, isn’t regarded
Unless it’s four in the afternoon & the sun is piercing your nerves
Telling you that these antics are your last fatal curse
I’m far removed
To tell you the truth
I do only the things the boldest among us do

I don’t wait until there’s nothing left to take
In the distance between your brown eyes
And these soft, fallen embers of Victorian blue
Crawl back
Crawl back
Panic attack
Mesh and in pieces
Forgive me for grieving

All ends in love, and love has its reasons
Come find me
Come find me
Come find me
Come find me

It’s so unnerving
Like an earthquake on purpose
It’s so delectable
Like you’ve lost your ability to reason

I’m always portrayed as the one who leaves the throne
Gown is disheveled, porcelain skin intact
Like an earthquake on purpose
Telling me to stop

Feeling the things that only I do
What has become of rage has given its way to you

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Love poem: I melt (just right)

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Love poem: I melt (just right)

I am a lavender riverbed
Milky and calm, docile and proud
Warm in the daylight
Looking for you, in the crowd
Foreign faces that look so withdrawn from me
My small network of webs and dandelions
Like tulips that fade to faint, but realized, shades of deep pink & lavish gold
Rising with the sun
Feeling down on my drive home
A mainstay of sleep-away camps and forgotten flowers
Collapsing in the evening
On my lush bedspread because I’m tired, so tired
Of living without you

To write
My digits
Down on a scratch sheet of paper
A ripped-to-pieces piece of art
Silence heard through a megaphone
I used to adore that store, the one named Michael’s
The one that sold craft supplies, stamps and postage, stickers that sparkled
In the right light
Ribbons and yarn, solid charcoal-black projectors
Fine point pens –
Thin, less than a third of a millimeter, dark black and anachronistic ink

(Sink your teeth in)
I swept through pages for ages, dancing on melatonin fiber sheath
Metallic highlighters to turn my pathophysiology notebook into sheer pink that gleams
With bright, sky, abstract blues
Colours I’ve never lost touch with, clearly
My eternity, my world
Proof I exist

Vivid, soft, enchanting, nice
A sense of completeness
Something to admire
In the evenings
When I’m at my desk
Working like a husband who’s ignoring his wife
But I’d never ignore you
I’d let you
Enter my world
“Come as you are”
Leave, never
Hold on, tightly
Feel at peace

Absorb my warmth
Don’t hide from me
Come alive with me

I’m starting to
Hesitate
But I do exist boldly, fiercely
Not looming in melancholia, but observing you working on your gadgets
With your five-thousand-Kelvin bright, white light
Attached to your forehead
That doesn’t correctly present your age in years
My time spent here
Is nice when in
The presence of your softly arranged cable-knit sweaters
That you look like an angel in

I am
Starting to lose my vision
Or reminded of the vision that I have already lost
I need
To know nothing
But be admired
For existing
If that can come true?
Of course

I am
Starting to lose my vision
Or reminded of the vision that I have already lost
I need
To know nothing
But be admired
For existing
If that can come true?
Of course

What God has created will see God when creation ends

Of course I can’t argue with the possibility that,
I am deserving
Of love that knows no bounds
Scream so loud we escape the surround sound
Because we’re terrified of gravity’s inner turmoil and how houses suddenly catch on fire
How teenagers stay up for hours not knowing they need sleep to grow and
Won’t you silence my inner critic
That tells me I’m not
Pretty in this bright, white light

It’s only when you
Turn to me
That I am concave and ice
And like ice, that dissolves
I melt like chamber orchestras

Falling deeper into the web of eternity’s vision statement
My residence in this world
Is only complete, if you’ll put the down payment down
And we’ll elope to the moon

How’s that sound?
How do I look in this light?

I want to
I want to
I want to look just right

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Love poem: Sweet nectar

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Love poem: Sweet nectar

It’s the waves of sadness that trickle with madness
As I cascade onto the lost heavenly golden shore,
Like a goddess from a stolen shipwreck,
I swim upstream, like an airplane in the wind
I won’t press send yet
I’ll leave you diamonds and all of your belongings, arranged into their definitive but transient places
Sprawled amongst my living room
Garments, piles of yarn & cotton
I thought I had it, but my god I’ve lost it

The breathtaking splendor
Of an afternoon in November
When you cradled me like a little baby in your mariner’s arms,
Like a tomboy
Like a child
Like with you, I’d happily run wild
Any day of the week
Do you mind if I speak
Or leave love letters, here and there, for you to read
When your eyes are
Closing
In-between somber nighttime
The stillness I could never objectify

A smooth transition
Won’t you pay attention
I’ve got my hair in curls, a floral neckline
A passerby’s time
Glance at the clock
I almost forgot
I have to let the sheep out before the wolves come back
From hiding
They do like to do that
So rambunctious and eerie
They paint me quite freely

I do love their art – I go to all of their showings
Even when they take place on a Tuesday, or Wednesday, and I’ve got more work to do than I can account for

I’m a lady of charm
And you’ll always find me armed
That part you can disregard

Glock 23 G23 Pistol Semi Auto Firearm Handgun Schematic

I won’t shrink in your presence
I occupy a throne
I go to places where most would be too scared to step on their own
It’s my afternoon glow
When you find me on that smooth soft-stoned path,
The dismay leaving my eyelids as I cast you not an ember of a doubt
But a becoming smile
Welcoming
Almost
Briefly
Weeping
Holding to you closest, what you want most

And that is?
That is?
Something to never be replaced
Something I won’t touch lightly on
Whispering to those in particular who have the patience to sound my vowels and consonants out, deal with the aftermath
Elegantly
Soft in the evenings
Rambunctious – they all are
Their witch hazel broiler room ticking clock
Like apricots at a wedding
In the middle of February
For no reason, no reason
For no reason at all

I sat down with you, there, close to the prisoner’s fence
I wanted to inquire whether you loved me
I can’t remember what I said
But I did
And that’s that
You’ll run me a cold lavender bath
Finding my hazel glow a little too appealing
Hopefully, I hadn’t been too revealing
The room is spinning
And I am thinking

You’re like sweet nectar from a flower that’s never been held

© Elle Silvestrov

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Love Poem: New York baby doll (cream sweater)

distantcaveLeave a comment

Love Poem: New York baby doll (cream sweater)

The type of girl that you want to meet
And to think that we met on the street
And you watched me tag my website on the grey, electrical box in black sharpie and cursive
For nobody to read, to not bother to glance
And you laughed not at me, but with me
Like we were on amphetamines
Like you aren’t as traffic-stopping, rush-hour-madness gorgeous as you are
How you framed a framework of genuine spirit
And the spirits on your golden side table
And the sweet drinks you made me because you store simple syrup
Little bartender in a black top
With hair like she just left the Manhattan salon
With a smile like she’s been happy all along

I don’t think I ever mentioned it at all
I was just
Struck
By the plants you have arranged on your glass windowsill
The cotton, white, dreamlike, lush bedspread
(I made your bed for you like a hundred times)
I wanted to show you I can perform acts of service
Because I clean when I get nervous

And my god, my dear god
My god, did you make me nervous
But not on purpose
Some people exude a confidence that inspires the same thing in yourself
But there’s still this nervous laughter of
How is she so composed
How is she hardly older than I, and so, so –
Full of experience
Full of delight
Worth talking and laughing from dark to the morning light
If this is fleeting, I can accept that
But some people
You want to know what lets them breathe
And I’ve got your clothes, I’ll give them right back
My New York damsel in sovereignty, too chill to be distressed
I’ll have you at your worst; I’ve already seen you at your best

But I’ll have you at your worst; I’ve already seen you at your best

I hope that you’re happy
I hope you wake up and fall in love with the world
I hope your parents love you
And if they don’t, I hope that in your head you tell them to go fuck themselves but keep them in your prayers every night
You deserve
Confetti streamers on your birthday
Someone to travel on the train for 2.5 hours with 29 golden balloons to
Surprise you with celebration

Something about you is so familiar
Something about you is so new
You looked at me with cocaine eyes when I grew solemn and blue
But I wasn’t tired of you
I was just tired- I was up all night!
This girl’s got a bedtime
And I slept well
But it might be my insecurity, for I can’t tell

If I made the right impression
God, I talked so much
Why’d you make me feel so comfortable!
Why did I have to enjoy your presence!
Under the city street lights when I first glanced in your direction, I thought “my god, she probably has everything”

The first impression
That you made
It is one that may partially come from you, and a portion from the book you lent me
Well, I’ll read it, and all that you highlighted – I love the little shades of blue hue
I’ll learn your secrets
I hope you’re living
A life you dreamt of
I hope to be
Someone you’ll send a message to when you’re
Stuck
Not knowing what to wear,
Bored and want to make me a drink, talk about the weather, don’t even have to think
Want someone to make you laugh about everything
Because I’m good at being that

My New Year’s resolution is to be accepting of myself
So I can stop second-guessing whether others accept me
And start living life as boldly and securely as you appear, you stunning avalanche of a porcelain doll

Think I’m starting to think
This year is going to be new for me
It’s only the seventh, and I’m on my pink bedspread in your cream white sweater
Somehow we’re the same size
Even though you’re smaller
Porcelain and clover, golden and sapphire

And you like luxury the way I do
And you don’t eat animals because you care
And we’re the same age but wiser beyond our years
Even though the boys would never tell us that our face

You’re awfully good at first impressions
Is there anything that I forgot to mention?
Shut up, don’t make fun of me for my apprehension

Make love to me under the twinkling lights
Let me give you directions

Porcelain skin, long princess hair
With plants on your windowsill
Downtown Los Angeles, May earth baby girl of nonchalance & sheer observation

Because being alive is just enough for you
Because being alive comes naturally to you
And you told me, not once- but twice
That you’re happy I’m here too
New York baby doll
You were a star in the fleeting night
While you’re in your studio, I’ll be right here
I’ll be right here
The things you said to me
They meant so much to me to hear

The plants arranged on your windowsill
I can’t wait to tell you their genus and species
Because I like biology
And you like theories
And your projector television screen illuminated a light upon your silhouette that made you look even more like a fever dream

In your cream sweater
I feel much better

So call me if you ever want to chat about the weather

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