L'amore crocifisso

Painting by Stanley Meltzoff

She planted you,

expecting to see a small plant

like maidenhair or a potted ivy.

……………….You were not prepared

to be a rosebud or maybe she wasn’t prepared

to see something outgrowing uncontrollably

behind the fragile surface of the words.

You could never appreciate

a rainbow tattooed under her skin

for you yourself don’t know your own true colors

and ignored dimensions.

She glued stars on the ceiling,

wrote messages with her favorite red lipstick

on the mirror, spoke the language of the flowers.

She had thirty hours, thirty days, thirty minutes,

thirty silent seconds to tell you about Tarot Cards,

Astrology and the immutability of fate.

Did you listen to her hoarse voice?

She was l’amore crocifisso.

Your blue eyes creep as you smoke away

your life and last possibility of happiness.

You said you had asked your God for guidance

but life is an eternal dance and you can’t

understand her steps as she moves her hands

in a tender choreography:

she is a zingara.

People clap their hands

and sing: “Mira la gitana, mira…”

But she is a zíngara, her blood speaks Italian

when L’amore weaves stelle and lune

in solitudine.

She cursed you.

“Strega” the crowd shouted at her.

She cursed love.

“Strega” you said.

What is love but a knife in the chest?

Every day you thrust it deep and deep

till nothing hurts anymore.

She doesn’t need what she can’t have.

For me she will always be a zingara

dancing, with a shawl and a red rose

in her black hair.

She shall be the magic lost, The Empress,

The Priestess, The Star, The Divine Feminine

drawn on my cards.

Karla Bardanza

For J.G

L’amore crocifisso – crucified love

Zingara - gypsy in Italian

Gitana – gypsy is Spanish

Mira – Look at

Stelle – stars in Italian

Lune – moons in Italian

In solitudine – alone in Italian

Strega – witch in Italian

Copyright©Karla Bardanza 2012