Short narrative with a love story fragmented in poems to my doctor Elena Pavlenka with pics of her instagram story in Russian, pics of herself, artworks by French artist Walter Minus, German Artist Anke Feuchtenberger, Svetlana Seferovic based on XXIst century women and pics and words by myself.
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| 01 |
To sweet Elena Pavlenka
I wasn't thinking at all.
My doc was asking me to take her some pics by the house hall.
I was astonished when she said this to me:
- Hey Man, be a darling and I'll caress your hand..
We were listening to blow.
You told me where we would go.
In your gold dress and your red shoes, you told me that we were going to dance on a trance without any kind of romance.
Lust and desire was what we need when we both needed to feed.
You were entering my mind saying this to me:
- Man, be kind.
- I'll kiss your body in the bed and even your head.
You were sugaring my mind while music was entering in your mouth without any shout.
You were telling me this:
- Man, you're being mean...
- I'll not show you our flowers that are green... I've looked at your figure while you were wearing my jeans in order to cook sushi for us in your kitchen for us not to miss the bus... Your blonde hair was everywhere...
I went into the living room and it was there.
I went into the bathroom and it was elsewhere.
You told me this:
- Hey Man, don't put me red with desire, you know that we don't have wire...
You put two glasses of Russian wine in the table and I told you this:
- Two are fine.
You looked at my t-shirt while speeding me towards Saint Petersburg in your car because your favorite theater performance was premiering there and tickets were being held to us just because.
I told you this:
- Hey honey, we're guest of honor.
You told me this:
- Doesn't matter, come one let's peep the show, you know that I love a peekaboo just like I love you.
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| 02 |
We were thinking about fishes...
We were actually cleaning dishes...
We were in a photo shoot...
We were on foot...
We were side by side...
We were watching the line...
We were inside a train...
We were loving each other without pain...
We were being ourselves...
We were gazing at our book shelves...
You asked me this:
- Hey Man, what's a mermaid?
I was looking at you inside your eyes and without lies, I've answered you this:
- It's a lady without feet, she has a fish tail and she sings to sailors about what love is when we're in the sea (both you and me).
You were preparing your make up.
Your purse was in the stairs.
You were pretty as a flower by the hour.
You told me this:
- Hey Man, I'll pick you up at our house, we'll both gaze at mountains and fountains...
In our trip, you whispered this in my left ear:
- Do you wanna know why I love you?
Then you whispered the answer on my right ear:
- Because you put me on the clouds out of the blue...
I was observing your body wearing jeans without any kind of means.
I was whispering this in your right ear:
- Hey love, let's have an ice-cream without any kind of dream...
I was whispering this in your left ear:
- You treat me kind...
- You're always in my mind.
We were here and there...
We were climbing trees...
We were kissing the sun...
We were having fun...
We told each other about a dream home...
We told each other about fire...
We told each other about wire...
You told me this:
- I'll love you for true...
I've answered you this:
- I'm in heaven for you...
With my bare hands, I was caressing your head...
With your soft hands, you were laying me on our bed...
Sparrows, ravens, cats, butterflies were elsewhere and our bodies were everywhere...
We were telling to us both this:
- Life's more than a kiss...
- Life's more than a bliss...
- Life is...
- More than...
- A kiss...
- Life is...
- More than...
- A bliss...
And I've told you this:
- C'est dans ta vie la chaleur...
- C'est dans ta vie offrir le coeur...
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| 03 |
A poem to Elena Pavlenka
I was somewhere looking for you...
You told me that a photo shot was something new.
I've asked you about my blood pressure.
You told me this:
- Hey Man, my lipstick isn't a joystick... I was observing your body dressed in gold without you being bold...
Your tattoos were screaming to me:
- Be our flesh...
- Don't be a mess...
Your hair was being caressed by me and your purse was where we used to be.
You continuously told me this:
- Hey Man, I'll break your heart in a start.
- Why's your screen always green?
- What are you doing in Moscow?
- Will you have dinner with me?
- You know that I love your company.
The photo shoot was almost at an end and you were telling me something about my hand...
Music was in the room and you asked me this:
- Will you describe me nice or put me in your poem as some sort of ice?
Your moving legs were a shoot to be near the sea.
Your blonde hair was a showcase inside our own physical race.
You told me this:
- Don't be a boy...
- I want you to be my joy...
I remember that we were in between bars that never seemed far...
You were watching the word through my sunglasses while telling me something about gym classes...
I've answered you this:
- Hey sugar pie, your body's fine.
- Look at the time.
- Can you show me the way to where we're going to go this day?
You looked at me and told me about dinner at your house. (You were wearing a blue blouse). "It's roasted chicken with potatoes..." You said.
I was astonished how you knew my favorite dish and without me thinking at all, I've told you that we were going to watch football... You answered me this:
- Football near a waterfall?
- Can we see a groovy movie?
- I'll pick it for us to see because you know that I love thee...
I didn't knew what to say to you because you were my doctor and you should care about my physical health.
You told me this:
- Hey Man, don't be like that.
- I'll borrow you a hat.
- Let's have fun on the run.
I've followed your words as strict orders because I knew (don't ask me why or how) that you'll take care of me in a single blow inside a show.
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| 03 |
Um poema para Elena Pavlenka que me ama.
Nunca fico parado, pois o amor não é algo irado.
Sussurras isto ao meu ouvido direito.
- O teu poder está na Rússia e não na Prússia.
- Será que me consegues amar somente com o teu olhar?
Vou escutando uma música dos The Cure onde um beijo é mesmo um ensejo (sinónimo de desejo.) Dizes frases simples:
- És um verso solto num mar revolto...
- Sou a tua estrela com cabelo loiro que sempre te mostrou um tesoiro...
- Os anos não passam por ti (nem sequer se atrasam).
- O teu corpo esguio cola-se ao meu durante dios a fio.
Interrogo-me algo a mim mesmo enquanto te carrego nos meus ombros:
- Será que a Ásia é maior que a lua sabendo eu que sendo tu a minha estrela dourada não és nada faseada?
Vais-me questionando:
- Ensinas-me o Português, o Francês, o Espanhol, o Alemão e o Inglês?
Eu olho para os teus olhos da cor do mar e fico sem ar.
Sussurras isto ao meu ouvido esquerdo:
- Eu ensino-te Russo...
- Eu respeito o teu fuso.
Fico a observar um pardal a voar e dás-me um sinal com o verbo amar.
A Ásia passa a ser uma realidade numa cidade.
Passeio contigo em São Petersburgo... (sem saber onde é o burgo.)
Pagas-me um gelado na praça vermelha onde observo com exactidão que as paredes da mesma são uma certeza com a beleza da tua presença.
Os teus lábios pintados percorrem o meu corpo num toque suave e cristalino onde nada é pequenino.
Os teus braços agarram-me em 1001 laços... Fico sem saber o que fazer quando te volto a colocar nos meus ombros e com a perfeita noção da emoção levo-te bem para lá duma qualquer coisa chamada "ilusão". Gritas pela casa:
- ÉS UMA CHAMA QUE NÃO SE APAGA...
- ÉS A LUZ NO NOSSO CORREDOR DE PRAZER DENTRO DO LAZER... - ÉS QUEM ESCUTA O MEU CORAÇÃO (mesmo quando te soletro "não".)
- És mais que um ser com personalidade, pois carregas a alma da tua cidade.
Fico sem saber o que te responder quando me perguntas:
- Ficas comigo até o sol nascer e inclusive até entardecer?
2019 papéis ficam a voar no nosso quarto enquanto te respondo:
- O nosso prato...
- O nosso copo...
- O nosso talher...
- Será sempre...
- A nossa certeza..
- Na tua beleza..
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