Slight touch by E. A. (korean novels in english txt) 📖

to light.

 

Parallel

She loved him far too much,

he wanted her far too much,

he pursued her once she smiled at him

she pursued him once he ran away,

he missed her for a while when she was gone,

she missed him even when he was home,

he didn't try to forget her, no use at all,

he left her in a corner of his mind,

she tried not to think of him and succeeded,

she did not think of him at all.

But then, she never thought of her soul,

her soul lived in her and so did he.

 

Discoveries

In the joyous light of our encounter

lay the darkness of our parting,

in our burning desire for each other

lay the cold detachment of later days.

The death of feeling and recognition

hid in the frenzy of spiralling climaxes

while the coldness of our goodbye

waited on our exhausted, satiated flesh,

lying on entangled embroidered sheets,

in a semi-lit room reeking of roses and sex.

 

Transformations

The arms of an abandoned woman

become the hands of a huge clock

moving resignedly to meet the hour,

while holding the pain of the world.

The eyes of an abandoned woman

become beacons in the darkness,

bearing witness to the grief around.

The legs of an abandoned woman

carry her through old, forgotten roads,

looking for a place she can call home.

 

 

Nothing

Nothing, Your elusive presence

still haunts the persistent silence.

Nothing. Your boyish smile of old

still dances wrapped in memories.

Nothing. Your voice of soft tones

still echoes in the growing distance.

Nothing. Your body of graceful lines

still rests nearby in a time long lost.

Nothing, nothing, just faded hours,

just broken crystals, just empty rooms,

just silence broken by droplets of blood

dripping slowly from a grieving heart.

 

Cynical lady

Cynical lady,

she has seen a lot,

has been used,

ghosted, abused,

seen her best friend

flirting with her man,

the one she used to love.

Cynical lady,

she has won and lost.

Cynical lady,

refusing to give up,

going on relentlessly,

in pursuit of nothing

and willing to try it all.

 

Epiphany

It was in the madness of lust

that I found my purest moment.

In the raw melting of orgasm

I found Death and defied her.

It was then I reached the Divine,

while agonizing amidst spasms,

it was then I learnt I was yours

and yet I was dangerously free,

like the wind in the desert,

free to live throughout our desire,

to wander through the realm of lust,

to become one with the elusive flame,

the one that ignites and feeds life.

 

Pictures

Ice cold droplets on rosebuds

fated to die under the first frost,

an untended garden lost in time,

a house blurred in the fog,

hours rushing to their swift end,

unopened books inviting dust,

a sun struggling pitifully to rise,

a moon declining its own light,

crystals shattered on old stones,

ashes gathering in misty winds,

all telling the bittersweet story

of a thwarted old love affair,

lost in the darkest folds of the mind.

 

Odd timing

She looked at him in awe

and saw her past revisited,

she looked at him hopefully

and saw her uncertain future.

He just looked at her intently

and saw only the present.

And it is now, years later,

she lives only in the present

while he thinks of their past

and still regrets not finding her

in his bright, promising future.

 

Paradoxes

Time and gardens

go together,

love and roses

go together

crystals and rain

go together,

fireplaces and Winter

also go together…

We, on the other hand,

shared time in gardens,

enjoyed love and roses,

loved raindrops on crystals,

cuddled near the fireplace

in cold, ice-cold Winters,

and yet, sadly enough,

we are no longer together.

 

Tribute

I found in your body,

traces of other climaxes,

other skins and moans,

madness and pain mingled.

I found fading echoes

of women willingly trapped

in the allure of your demands.

I inhaled the powerful scent

of rampant desire struggling

for chain-breaking release.

I saw not only you

but the countless others,

I heard their soft sighs

and your name strangling

their fragile collared throats.

I saw them die in orgasms

to revive under your cold gaze,

looking in vain for some love.

I saw them building houses,

houses of sweet domestic bliss,

doomed to fall onto shifting sands.

They didn´t know you at all;

naive like moths near a flame

they built around you a story,

a story pitied by the gods,

a story mocked by spectres.

I saw it all and yet I lost myself

in the intricate garden of your mind,

throwing fears to the whims of life,

while willingly paying homage

in the power-hungry temple of your body.

 

Findings

Just the sanding of the years

on a wall still firm and strong,

just the flaking here and there,}

while TIme smiles and goes on.

Just a few more marks and lines

on a surface still quite smooth,

while events unfold and fade,

while peace and turmoil meet

and love and desire rub elbows

with the paleness of dying seconds.

 

My Valentine

Even if other arms claim you in lust,

even if the trace of your passions

still lingers in other beds, other rooms,

in cities lost in labyrinths of memory.

Even it the portals of your playful heart

have opened to multiple affections,

stories fueled by pain and also desire,

even if the caresses of unforgiving Time

slowly cover your once worshipped body,

wrapping your limbs in elusive immortality

.I will still celebrate your very existence,

I will still keep the finest red rose for you,

you are and will always be my Valentine.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Love

 

Love, the one luring us all,

the eternally elusive one,

the prize we covet,

the reward we seek,

the unspoken goal,

the hidden agenda,

the strawberry on the cake.

Love, master, and slave,

dominant and sub,

rope and knots,

links and chain.

Love, dungeon, and cells,

bedrooms and gardens,

portals and bridges,

towers and castles.

Love, masked faces

in the Venetian night,

mantles hiding bodies

lost in multiple climaxes.

Love, the only reason

we live and we die.

 

Buenos Aires, February 2019.

 

 

Where are you?

Where are you, beloved

What keeps you away?

Why does only silence

answer my words?

The night soothes me

she knows my secrets,

she knows my pain.

The pale moon guards me,

the sun´s forgotten my face.

Still, the river remembers,

the stones hold our story,

the streets echo our steps,

the city breathes our names!

 

Buenos Aires, February 2019.

 

"Lovers"

They parted one day,

under a cold bridge,

she cried that night,

he merely survived.

Oh, yes, they lived to tell,

cried and also laughed,

raised glasses of champagne

towards fading lights.

Under crystal chandeliers,

in mansions well known,

they did everything to forget,

they certainly went on.

After all, it was not such a big deal

that when glasses clank

and lights faded into nothing,

when lovers held them tight,

they heard the other´s name

whispered in the twilight.

 

 

February 2019.

 

 

 

Beloved

And it is now, right now,

when my hourglass

threatens me from its place,

when your absence

speaks from the roots of silence,

when only your shadow

visits my nights and bed

that I can grasp at last,

the immensity of the abyss

that used to engulf us

in the blessed madness

of spiralling climaxes.

 

Buenos Aires, February 2019.

 

Hidden thorn

It is not your absence,

the main source of pain,

it is not the distance,

that causes despair,

it is not time and choices

that cause disappointment,

but the certainty ,the fact,

you never got to enjoy my body,

the pleasures it could give you,

the shudders that lead inevitably

to climax and oblivion.

For, what is pleasure,

but an exhausted body

and a mind rejoicing

in the joy received and given?

I could not pay you my last homage

and this is the hidden thorn

In the red rose of my passion.

 

 

Wolverine

I roam the dark night,

I hide in doorways,

I get lost in darkness

to be reborn in lust.

I roam the dark night,

looking for pleasure,

looking for the one,

I am no woman,

just endless dark nights,

I am no friend, no foe,

a wolverine on the prowl,

with fiery eyes, soft step,

strong body and bare fangs.

 

Reunion

In a dimly lit chamber,

you wait for me,

wearing a black mask.

You sit and wait calmly,

as you know I will arrive.

I enter and look at you,

time has respected you,

hours have been kind,

life has nourished you

with unexpected tricks,

and odd surprises.

I just enter and feel

my clothes bother us both

I undress before you,

your eyes follow me,

behind the black mask.

waiting for me to get near.

I do so and I feel a jolt,

desire urges me forward,

I extend my trembling hands

and find myself caught

in the iron circle of your arms.

 

Forgotten woman

The limbs of a forgotten woman

are like hands of a dead clock,

trying to turn and signal the hours

only to find stillness and silence.

Desire flows through her body,

only to find its object gone,

tears of pain and solitary climaxes

course her face erasing hope.

The body of a forgotten woman,

becomes a memory in itself,

a trodden upon, well-known territory,

owing no excuses to a fancy map.

The spirit of a forgotten woman

becomes the one that nurtures her

pushes her forward in cold nights

and teaches her old female secrets

to go on in search of her own sun.

 

 

An affair

An affair hides the clocks of Time

under its brief encounters,

hides the desperate prayer

for desire to keep flowing..

An affair defies Time and Death

in its mad pursuit of Pleasure,

an affair refuses to become

just dry rose petals between pages

of some old book on a forgotten shelf.

 

When passion strikes

When passion strikes, brace yourself

for there might be no tomorrows.

When passion strikes, cross yourself

for you might have been cursed.

When passion strikes, take care

because you will forget your fears

and trust your steps as never before,

seek encounters with the forbidden

laughing at the faces of Time and Death.

 

Master beloved

Oh, master beloved,

how your touch is missed,

how your voice searched

in the sounds lost in memory…

Oh, master beloved,

how your scent is lingering

on my skin you knew so well…

Oh, master beloved,

our distance and silence

are also a game of discipline.

 

Hers and his

Her dream was to bear

his mark on her skin,

to get to sleep in his arms,

bathed in his maleness

and her own joyful tears.

Her dream was to live

in awe and gratitude

at the renewed miracle

of his mere existence.

His dream was to hold her

till time was no more,

the world was kept at bay,

and they were alone at last

to die and be born again

in the madness of passion.

 

 

Just now

Just now I remembered you,

years have not faded your memory,

time has not killed my feelings,

desire flows through muy veins

and my spirit remains indómitable.

You gave me once the gift of lust,

of laughter in the face of time,

of love wrapped in companionship

and that stays in me, untarnished,

just like the scent of your skin

in the long nights of solitude,

in the fading seconds, in the lost hours.

 

Why?

Why did they meet?

Was it fate or bad karma?

They met to want each other,

they met to hate each other,

they met to run to each other,

they met to dump each other.

Was it fate, just bad karma?

Or perhaps just twisted love,

masked as casual desire,

hidden between soiled sheets,

lost even before it blossomed.

 

Daze

I slept under an old tree,

when I woke up

the garden was no more.

I slept under a cloud,

when I woke up

the sky was no more.

I slept under the moon,

when I woke up

the night was no more.

Garden, sky and night,

dreams within a dream...

who knows when we are awake,

who knows if we are still asleep...

 

Beauty

And I saw her and then I knew

everything was right.

The circle closed and opened again

completion and freedom

both surrendered us to light.

 

Parallel

She loved him far too much,

he wanted her far too much,

he pursued her once she smiled at him

she pursued him once he ran away,

he missed her for a while when she was gone,

she missed him even when he was home,

he didn´t try to forget her, no use at all,

he left her in a corner of his mind,

she tried not to think of him and succeeded,

she did not think of him at all.

But then, she never thought of her soul,

her soul lived in her and so did he.

 

Discoveries

In the joyous light of our encounter

lay the darkness of our parting,

in our burning desire for each other

lay the cold detachment of later days.

The death of feeling and recognition

hid in the frenzy of spiralling climaxes

while the coldness of our goodbye

waited on our exhausted, satiated flesh,

lying on entangled embroidered sheets,

in a semi-lit room reeking of roses and sex.

 

Transformations

The arms of an abandoned woman

become the hands of a huge clock

moving resignedly to meet the hour,

while holding the pain of the world.

The eyes of an abandoned woman

become beacons in the darkness,

bearing witness to the grief around.

The legs of an abandoned woman

carry her through old, forgotten roads,

looking for a place she can call home.

 

from spilling her blood on the ground.

 

Nothing

Nothing, Your elusive presence

still haunts the persistent silence.

Nothing. Your boyish smile of old

still dances wrapped in memories.

Nothing. Your voice of soft tones

still echoes in the growing distance.

Nothing. Your body of graceful lines

still rests nearby in a time long lost.

Nothing, nothing, just faded hours,

just broken crystals, just empty rooms,

just silence broken by droplets of blood

dripping slowly from a grieving heart.

 

Cynical lady

Cynical lady,

she has seen a lot,

has been used,

ghosted, abused,

seen her best friend

flirting with her man,

the one she used to love.

Cynical lady,

she has won and lost.

Cynical lady,

refusing to give up,

going on relentlessly,

in pursuit of nothing

and willing to try it all.

 

Epiphany

It was in the madness of lust

that I found my purest moment.

In the raw melting of orgasm

I found Death and defied her.

It was then I reached the Divine,

while agonizing amidst spasms,

it was then I learnt I was yours

and yet I was dangerously free,

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