Blue snowflake

“I put my soul into the palm of your hand

Look, how beautiful hundred-see glass!

But she took out diamons,

because she won’t understand the human.”

- Attila József -

I look outside.

It’s magic.

Blue.

Yes, you see it right.

A tear drop falls to the shabby grey floor.

I want to run out with you to the snow. It would crunch under our foot, you would hold my hand – two cold, clasped hands – I could laugh in my soul. The sun would rise in me.

You would touch my neck, look into my eyes, the sky’s blue would glitter in them. You’d kiss me and suddenly a flame would flicker in the motionless countryside.

You would spin me around, and the snow were just crunching, falling to our hair – mine would have been a little curly now – and God, you would be there with me.

The music would be played from us, and you’d hear what I hear, and I’d hear what you hear. A smile would arise, a tiny little Happiness would blink among the thousand-lots sky-ships.

I start to laugh; I am miserable as I am sitting behind the window, craving into the winter spring.

Please, just let me one breath, can’t you see that you are sitting with a tons of weight in my soul.

To no effect of the tons of weight, I don’t want you to leave. All I want is you to turn around and look into my eyes.

‘Cuz I am just a girl too, who is standing in front of you with her eyes filled with tears, and asks him to love her.

2009-02-17 - Thuesday.

E. L.