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Ladybug hit my eye
Today
Insisting
On something
About the inability to let go
Causing the blindness

And so eye blinked
Couple of times
Filling with tears
Drowning memories
Of the last October
And its marigold shroud of ladybirds

Swallowing the half of my parents
‘house
Spelling
“Good luck”

One year later
Eye simply acknowledged

Its literal meaning

-…why? Why am I here?
-Because your parents had sex.
She giggled.
-C’mon, I mean, why am I?
-Because your parents had sex.
-No, what for am I?
-You mean- what is your purpose, your destiny, the purpose of your existence, what you suppose to achieve, to do in this reality?
-Exactly!
-Your parents had sex. It’s as simple as that. Just like mine did. Just like you did, so your children came to existence.
-Slavka, it’s not funny. I wanna know why.
-Why your parents had sex?
-Yes, why are people having sex, and then they have children!
-Guess, you still remember why you decided to have sex with someone, just like you remember why you decided to keep a child when you learnt you were pregnant…

She was not satisfied. Since she expected more. She craved for more. There simply had to be more. Not just something as simple as a mere memory, which she discarded straightaway.
The memory, which kept replicating, in order to preserve itself.
Just like a brain, full of memories, was giving birth to another brain, full of memories. Which it kept projecting since our very birth.
Scientists marvelled at quantum entanglement, failing to grasp the nonexistence of either such a particle…

Funny, how people kept talking about technology, understanding computers, feeling robotlike, searching for the I, all the while I was nothing, but a projector

of the true memory

People

You negative Slavomira
Off you go
Manifest!!!
Money first!
And everything else what others think you should have, but you still don’t!! How dare you?!?!!
There’s blinking Venus winking at Neptune, what are you waiting for??

And so eye
Shot
The sky

Getting caught
By
Sunaru

This morning

Sat me next to the woman
Playing
With her chart of red and blue
Believing
That to be her heart

Which left me wondering
Whether she really didn’t see
The radioactive magenta
Poisoning every bud
Of green

And so eye stared
At her map
Of mags
Seeing the windmills
Of the coming days

Stained with crimson red
Chopping off the heads

Of the colourmen

Smith

He lifted a hammer
Missed
And hit a man

In his agony creating
A ring
Of War

Where he lifted a hammer once again
Missed
And hit a string

In its agony creating
A heartbeat
Of Melody

That’s when he dropped the hammer to think
Was the man less
Than a string?

-…you’re thinking
-About the stars
Warming up the darkness
Of the blind

Finally able to let go

Of the Sun

…and then she remembered- a giant, the most beautiful bouquet of her life, blushing at her hesitantly on her 39th birthday.
She knew straightaway the identity of an anonymous sender, hence she grabbed it, intending to stick it in a waste bin.
Yet the muted innocents kept whispering “we’re alive, we’re ALIVE”, stopping her steps.
Turning to Lotus, her trembling lips said- I thought it’s from Alan, yet eye was wrong. It’s from someone… who secretly loves me, I’m gonna keep them.
Later on, in her room, she sent a thank you note to someone she didn’t know. No, they had no idea about the existence of the flowers, yet her blue smile didn’t mind.
That was the day when her Lietome story truly began…

And yes, sometimes, unexpectedly, one found out the heavenly scent

Of lemon orchids

20/4/22

Geese

Kept on galloping
Across the vast skies
Explaining in a wink
The fairytales
Of flying reindeers

Touching

Wondering Emma
Completely absorbed in a sight of weightless seagulls
Sailing
Adagio
Through a breathtaking sunset

And one delicate leaf
Hanging up there
In the middle of nowhere
Waiting
Uncertain

For a kiss

That of a snowflake

-…and these? What do you call them?
 Nonna Rosella smiled with that soft smile of hers, pointing first to the flowers, then to her own eyes.
-Occhi della Madonna… occhi della Madonna