"Owls are not what they seem"
Come.
A bit closer.
Do you remember how you used to toy around
with my fingers
while
I toyed with your heart
and we both blamed the playful moods
and
relationship faux pas?
Jealousy used to leak
like words
out of our mouths
and we soaked them all back
with our brittle lips
and dry kisses
of rehearsed attraction.
Do you remember,
how you didn’t complain
and I didn’t mention
that I notice it?
– Chatty Owl –
Sceptical opinions
lose their power
in virtual attractions
and like players
of some surreal game
we transfer binary codes
to the streets of our city,
in a form of shared coffee cups
and coldness of our hands.
I crave your brave actions
of (non)shown affection,
that you claim to have
towards me
and
you tease my patience
with a harsh lack of promises,
because you know I’m addicted
to this sweet torture
of yours.
– Chatty Owl –
Words of apology
hardly ever leave my mouth.
Guarded
by the maze of embarrassment
and tunnels of arrogant vanity,
they stay right
where
they (don’t) belong –
inside.
(Like your body parts
inside me
in the morning).
I like to wonder
about
what colour are your thoughts
when you think about me,
but then…
does it really matter?
I’m not your friend
any more.
Friends
are for when things go wrong
and you need a shoulder
or two
to cry on.
And lovers –
for when one is happy,
because
there is no better way
than to share your joy and money
with someone
you’re attracted to.
I’m not your friend,
because
you chose
to share your happiness
with me.
– Chatty Owl –
CHATTYOWL 