Who’s Driving The Car?

Who’s driving the Car?

My grandfather is driving the car. He’s driving a blue Vauxwagon Beetle. It was never a trendy car. It was a family car.

The most reassuring and soothing sound in the world was the tick tock of its indicator as…

Umărul stâng

Umărul stâng
e declinarea la plural
a cuvântului noi
într-o seară de joi.

Umărul meu stâng se conjugă
cu umărul tău drept
când ne izbim în fugă 
pe treptele albe. 
Deseori,
în urma noastră,
rămân…

My Short Glossary on Love

To love: to melt the ice of someone’s pain into the velvet of one’s warm blood. To embrace someone entirely as oneself. Especially the uncomfortable bits ;)

Stories o Relative Insignificance

I boarded the coach. I was 18 I guess. I didn’t need any permission to leave the country. My dad had bought me a new set of clothes which was really unusual. He always thought that I would always spend money on cigarettes and coffee at school, which wasn’t true but my aunt and uncle told him…

I am not a Romantic.

I like that peace between two people that don’t need to speak to fill a silence that’s uncomfortable.

I love the smell in the kitchen when we both cook or wash the dishes.

Immigrant

Immigrant: water between two shores

Ebbs and flows languidly

Languages intertwined

Into this play of

Warp and weft

Two types of wisdom

After Pecan Pie Question

(To a strange angel)

“When tears gather up hurriedly into our eyes-
Like platelets in their quest to seal a wound-
Is it because it’s unbearably beautiful
This salty show we’re living in and watch?”
“Maybe…” said the strange Angel
“Or maybe not’…