Writer Between Worlds

Soulful writing about humans and places

Category: De-ale vieţii

Why?

why am I woman and not apple blossom bee grass blue heron seabed? the same cosmic black tongue coiling around them all and licking the plate clean.
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Last station

Outside: the sun in the fresh leaves, weightless petals, pink with the promise of fruit. Inside: blood, phlegm and the screams of people birthing their death; that labor of leaving.
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Self-compassion

sit with that pain, that sorrow, that fear. hold its hand like you would a dying man’s. breathe. then caress it and dab its lips with moisture. for when it dies down – and it will – it is a part of you you will have buried.
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The Gender Dance

Today is International Women’s Day. Below is a text I wrote a while ago, which sadly remains valid today and sheds some light on the place of women in society, asymmetrical relationships, gender expectations, and the thorny consent issue. It’s my sophomore year in high school. I’m with my class on one of those overnight…
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Ce suntem?

(haiku-uri) seva se scurge pe hârtie, din anii noștri se aleg păstăi uscate, măturate de viscol în crevasele uitării, pagini ce hrănesc glodul umed din care, poate alte vrejuri vor țâșni către cer pline de bobi dulci-amari. vorbe crestatepe o scoarță desprinsăde vânt. pirogileîn care te veicuibări ca să pluteștispre depărtări tu.
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Abschwörung

Ich schwöre die Liebe ab. Das Einzige worin ich gut war. Das Einzige wozu ich vielleicht etwas taugte – ich schwöre es ab, dieses unendliche Grauen. Nie wieder werde ich in deinem Körper verweilen, noch du in meiner Erinnerung.
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Abandon

We had roots. Our roots had roots. Our roots’ roots had roots, but then fall came and our leaves began to fall, one by one to the ground, crackling dry. And in the soil they made we were rooted. But the light called to our children and to our children’s children. They clambered to the…
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Toamna (haiku)

Înflăcărarea se stinge în râuri moi de pace mută.
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Quote of the day

“In fact, we humans (and all other organisms) are almost selfless slaves whose entire purpose is to serve our molecular masters. (…) If the gene-centred view is correct, then evolution is nothing at all to do with ‘us’. We are nothing more than sophisticated robots, constructed over 3.5 billion years of mutation and selection to…
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On Leaving My Walled Garden

I hugged each tree trunk one by one, caressed each stalk, each stem, each textured leaf, each evanescent petal that now is a fresh-scented pink and by dawn, sallow, already reeks of wilted tissue and, with eyes closed,I breathed. I breathed and I touched. I mapped bark creases and crevasses, patterns of smoothness and ridges,…
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Saying Goodbye to a Tree

I hugged the tree in my garden yesterday as it spread its arms out into that empty space that summer weaves out of vapor and linden fragrance. I hugged my tree yesterday held it tight bark against cheek and whispered my goodbyes. It felt rooted and rough I entered its shy shade like one enters a…
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On love (2)

“It was as if they had leapt over the arduous calvary of conjugal life and gone straight to the heart of love. They were together in silence like an old married couple wary of life, beyond the pitfalls of passion, beyond the brutal mockery of hope and the phantoms of disillusion: beyond love. For they…
Read more: On love (2)