scarecrow poetics/essays
Sunday, March 19, 2006
A yellow spot...
I cast it off that pain, I gave away one of my rings, the other one with the little white stone has disappeared, my eyes ache terribly, I found a heap of handkerchiefs, the old cracked cap's broken
One vast beach. Love too. The water is green. In Sozopol, I was dropped again in that vagueness of not knowing where I am. Most of the time I thought about Antibes, ‘cause of the bend of the beach
Love too is the vast beach. That's so because of the couple I spot at the end of the beach, the man resembles very much the one I want to make love to me. This was what first struck me. The sky is slightly drawled, the dusk grows out from behind the horizon, only the green water still glows
The next day the man I want to make love to me was squatting at the edge of the water and I heard him speak about doves, gazing at one yellow spot, I heard him repeating now and then "Turn me around". Before long he stood up, went to the parasol, got dressed - my, in this heat! - and went back to the edge squatting again
He squatted for quite a long time then he threw the yellow beach towel on his head and followed the sun, the water and the foam, carrying his slippers in his left hand and I didn't see him disappearing, just suddenly I perceived that he'd simply gone . . . the man I want to make love to me, with a head more yellow than the sun
For a few minutes I was bewitched. That huge resemblance. His eccentric behaviour attracted me more and more. How his legs didn't ache to squat days on end, dressed in this sultriness!
The meteorologist reported on the century's hottest summer, all around poured in the sea, but he continued squatting under the parasol looking fixedly at his own hands, which he moved so as though playing with a web . . . until she appeared . . . until she came back from the sea with her ruby hair
They didn't speak to each other, nevertheless they understood each other. They hardly stayed together. Either she bathed, or he walked along the coast with his towel on his head. He was missing for quite a long time. When he finally came back, she plunged once more into the sea and so on until they left the beach. In the meantime, when they were together, she spotted that I was looking at him and that he was carried away. The resemblance was to blame
I couldn't resist and one night I made up my mind that I would introduce myself to them the following day. I coined various scenarios how I should explain to them that I had took him for someone else and that as a matter of fact
The next day they didn't come, neither did they come the day after next, they escaped . . . and me? I remained looking at one yellow spot
Rositza Pironska © 2006
One vast beach. Love too. The water is green. In Sozopol, I was dropped again in that vagueness of not knowing where I am. Most of the time I thought about Antibes, ‘cause of the bend of the beach
Love too is the vast beach. That's so because of the couple I spot at the end of the beach, the man resembles very much the one I want to make love to me. This was what first struck me. The sky is slightly drawled, the dusk grows out from behind the horizon, only the green water still glows
The next day the man I want to make love to me was squatting at the edge of the water and I heard him speak about doves, gazing at one yellow spot, I heard him repeating now and then "Turn me around". Before long he stood up, went to the parasol, got dressed - my, in this heat! - and went back to the edge squatting again
He squatted for quite a long time then he threw the yellow beach towel on his head and followed the sun, the water and the foam, carrying his slippers in his left hand and I didn't see him disappearing, just suddenly I perceived that he'd simply gone . . . the man I want to make love to me, with a head more yellow than the sun
For a few minutes I was bewitched. That huge resemblance. His eccentric behaviour attracted me more and more. How his legs didn't ache to squat days on end, dressed in this sultriness!
The meteorologist reported on the century's hottest summer, all around poured in the sea, but he continued squatting under the parasol looking fixedly at his own hands, which he moved so as though playing with a web . . . until she appeared . . . until she came back from the sea with her ruby hair
They didn't speak to each other, nevertheless they understood each other. They hardly stayed together. Either she bathed, or he walked along the coast with his towel on his head. He was missing for quite a long time. When he finally came back, she plunged once more into the sea and so on until they left the beach. In the meantime, when they were together, she spotted that I was looking at him and that he was carried away. The resemblance was to blame
I couldn't resist and one night I made up my mind that I would introduce myself to them the following day. I coined various scenarios how I should explain to them that I had took him for someone else and that as a matter of fact
The next day they didn't come, neither did they come the day after next, they escaped . . . and me? I remained looking at one yellow spot
Rositza Pironska © 2006
posted by scarecrow # 3:39 AM 
