Appropriation and Generosity

The poem below is an extract from the volume Declaration of Dependence (2015). Here, Ada Carol proposed to write love poems, dedicated to a close friend, poems which document the history of a difficult yet full of candor love affair. The volume has an English section from which the poet has extracted these verses, partially inspired by the philosophy of translation (Paul Ricoeur) and by the lyrics and music of the contemporary band The Killers.

           

Do you need Love today?

Do you want to be held and caressed

or have you taken your fill of pleasure?

I may go now, if need be

(I feel strong enough for the moment).

But I know you would keep me still –

though you haven’t forgiven, which was my aim.

(That much, and much more,

I want from you!)

Try to forget, don’t “understand” anymore:

I didn’t use to know I loved you.

Nowadays, at the smell of your skin,

I am elated yet I shiver

with pain at my memories

of you crying, of me in doubt.

I once plucked a rose, a Midnight Blue,

and never thought that I could love a flower.

(As far as I knew, they were meant

to be reaped and to fade away.)

It kept blooming in my heart,

chaining its thorns to my breast,

never ceasing to spread its seeds

across my genes.

So I kept you until I went crazy

and tried to replace you with an orange.

But this would never, never bloom

(or hurt me so much).

I grew sick of fighting.

While swaying to and fro I learned

that human nature was about belonging:

(I am no dancer -I belong

to the Rose in my flesh!)

I gave my heart back to the Child.

I’m wearing now your thorns as a gown

(they keep my body awake).

You keep producing new ones

which I cherish – I still need earrings,

bracelets, a muzzle…

Sometimes I prepare myself for your wrath

(I believe in the necessity of punishment),

but our love grows stronger every day,

nourished by passion and remorse,

and I find myself surprisingly…

happy!?

I am learning to unpluck the flowers,

to unknot the tears.

Your child is toying with my splinters.

Published in Contemporary Literary Horizon 4 (42)/ July-August 2014