A poem to the tender

Painting by Maria Boohtiyarova

You created me
from images long lost;
moving my body
across untouchable seas;
there was little to fear.
Maybe the verses
of my transfixed dreams.
Maybe the blurred screen.

Something had to be given
for so little asked.
It wasn't necessary to feel
my heart in between my legs.
You - the impossible elegy
spiraling down my poems.

When I hid behind
the frosted flowers,
I don't know whether
it was for you or me.
Your blind hand reached
my limitations and
I craved for more
but you shall never understand
why I liked to be in captivity
when nothing could
be offered apart from
my naked words,
my strangled confession
of admiration.

I am mapping
fate. The knowledge
of surfaces will never be enough
to know me.
You touched me with
your mind. I touched you
with my distant flesh.
There is no loss.
The end still sleeps within us.

Karla Bardanza

Photobucket Copyright©Karla Bardanza 2012

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