The Sun and Her Flowers. Белые стихи, от которых распускаются цветы

the way you look at someone
when you’re about to hand it to them
lips pursed tightly preparing to launch into conversation
eyes digging deeply into theirs
searching for all the weak spots
they have hidden somewhere
hair being tucked behind the ears
as if you have to physically prepare for a conversation
on the philosophies or rather disappointments
of what love looks like

well
i tell her
i don’t think love is him anymore
if love was him
he would be here wouldn’t he
if he was the one for me
wouldn’t he be the one sitting across from me
if love was him it would have been simple
i don’t think love is him
anymore i repeat
i think love never was
i think i just wanted something
was ready to give myself to something
i believed was bigger than myself
and when i saw someone
who could probably fit the part
i made it very much my intention
to make him my counterpart

and i lost myself to him
he took and he took
wrapped me in the word special
until i was so convinced he had eyes only to see me
hands only to feel me
a body only to be with me
oh how he emptied me
how does that make you feel
interrupts the therapist
well
i said
it kind of makes me feel like shit

maybe we’re all looking at it wrong
we think it’s something to search for out there
something meant to crash into us
on our way out of an elevator
or slip into our chair at a cafe somewhere
appear at the end of an aisle at the bookstore
looking the right amount of sexy and intellectual
but i think love starts here
everything else is just desire and projection
of all our wants needs and fantasies
but those externalities could never work out
if we didn’t turn inward and learn
how to love ourselves in order to love other people

love does not look like a person
love is our actions
love is giving all we can
even if it’s just the bigger slice of cake
love is understanding
we have the power to hurt one another
but we are going to do everything in our power
to make sure we don’t
love is figuring out all the kind sweetness we deserve
and when someone shows up

saying they will provide it as you do
but their actions seem to break you
rather than build you
love is knowing whom to choose

как выглядит любовь

как выглядит любовь? – спрашивает меня психотерапевт
спустя неделю после разрыва.
я не знаю, что ей ответить,
кроме того, что я считала,
что любовь похожа на тебя.

и тогда меня осенило,
я осознала, какой же была наивной,
раз для меня это прекрасное слово воплотилось
в конкретном образе человека.
как будто хоть кто-то на всей этой земле
может объединить в себе всю любовь.
как будто это чувство, которое волнует семь
миллиардов человек,
может выглядеть как смуглый парень среднего
сложения,
которому нравится есть на завтрак замороженную
пиццу.

как выглядит любовь? – снова спрашивает терапевт,
обрывая течение моих мыслей на полуслове,
и я чуть было не встаю и не выхожу из кабинета.
только я заплатила чересчур много за этот час,
так что просто бросаю на нее пронзительный взгляд,
каким смотришь на кого-то,