Borderless poems and outpourings by Demelza Bosma.
Please click on 'meer lezen' after each poem, to see them with the right lay-out.
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to play can be fun but I love your seriousness when you touch me for only the mindful can lose their minds like we do as if you are creating me with your own hands
Er kann nicht bleiben weil er mich liebt immer weil ich besser verdiene immer weil es zu gefühlvoll wäre so zu leben immer weil er sich sonst verirren würde dort wo es viel zu schön ist dort wo er essen, lachen, kommen, tief schlaffen kann dort wo er mich aufwärmt wo alles Sinn macht und wir beide zu die beste Versionen unseres Selbst erblühen würden dorthin kann er nie wieder nach Hause kommen.
The fridge sounds like a field of crickets in the summer, singing about your arrival? My little rented house is held in the lap of the earth white with snow her hand rests on my forehead to take my fever Don't take it from me, mother as long as he isn't here I'll take any flight to be with him.
Spicy nights(you ate too much red chili) waiting, draining seconds through a sieve stoned, like truth hits me young and ancient drenched and dried out trying to imagine a way out together forever shall I tattoo it? ink tying the knot maybe it is time to turn nutwork into knotwork or dotwork aborigonal art or a rope bridge am I still young enough to cross it in lingerie? am I still young enough to die every day? and how long can the process take to arrive in one's own life? and a fraction of every new second to fall in love with an Arab.
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