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

Copyright©Karla Bardanza 2012