Falling Backwards

Wysteria Sky ©2015Daphne C Alexopoulou
Wysteria Sky © 2015 Daphne C Alexopoulou

I’m falling through the worlds
backwards
an act of trust in gravity, play, soft grass.

Falling through sounds
and colours,
falling through hot, falling through cold,
lost in the smell of your hair.

And if it seems ungrateful,
to hold onto something so slight
(hair, smell)
when I have been shown the Universe,
well, that’s me.

Small, slight,
a hair’s breadth from the miraculous,
a whisper away from true love,
the smell of your hair
mixed in my breath.

Girlcloud and flowers © Daphne C Alexopoulou
Girlcloud and flowers © Daphne C Alexopoulou

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Kiss Me Better

Thames buildings at dusk © 2015 Daphne C Alexopoulou
Thames buildings at dusk © 2015 Daphne C Alexopoulou

When we meet again, you will kiss me better.
There are wings fluttering
on the edge of my consciousness,
sounds beneath my skin
clutter the airwaves.
I’m here for the one pure melody
but I only catch drifts and bars in snatches,
never the whole song.

I walked on Waterloo Bridge tonight
in the lilac magic hour.
Lights were puncturing the edges of buildings,
the river not yet darkest black,
the light hovering between now
or never.
Perfect happiness even without you.
When I’m without you,
the river is my friend, my consolation prize.
Until we meet again and you can kiss me better.

(London, crossing the Thames at Twilight)

~ May 2010 / Jan 2015

Thames buildings at dusk © 2015 Daphne C Alexopoulou
Thames buildings at dusk © 2015 Daphne C Alexopoulou
Agape, Unconditional Love @the Southbank.© 2015 Daphne C Alexopoulou
Agape, Unconditional Love @the Southbank.© 2015 Daphne C Alexopoulou
Impresionist-riverview ©2015 Daphne C Alexopoulou
Impressionist riverview ©2015 Daphne C Alexopoulou

Crazy in Love

Hearts on the beach © 2015 Daphne C Alexopoulou
Hearts on the beach © 2015 Daphne C Alexopoulou

Crazy in love with you,
I lie on the marble floor,
arms outstretched,
cooling the urge,
folding the want into a small square,
always
to carry in my pocket.

Crazy in love with you,
I let the beach embrace me,
I meld with the sand, arms outstretched,
catching the rays of sun on my skin,
softly,
accepting the caress of faraway winds,
the shape of my hand
perfectly matching yours,
because
I’m crazy in love with you.

October 2011~

World-oyster © 2015 Daphne C Alexopoulou
World-oyster © 2015 Daphne C Alexopoulou
" Thank You" © Daphne C Alexopoulou
“Thank You” © 2015 Daphne C Alexopoulou


3 Hearts © 2015 Daphne C Alexopoulou
3 Hearts © 2015 Daphne C Alexopoulou

Hear Me Past the Explosion

Wreaths © 2015 Antony Tibbs
Wreaths © 2015 Antony Tibbs

We have grown in stature, you and I,
Since last we met.
There’s a mellow certainty in your gaze,
Your heart is steady. I like what I see.
I feel calm by the water’s edge, ready for more.
Everything starts today.
I give you my hand, you give me your heart,
I give you my song, you give me your book of prayers,
I give you a key to the past and present,
You give me your stack of maps.
My heart was always, always yours.

These are the terms of the prenup:
Steadfastness, calm and surrender.
Love at all times, even when we are looking away.
We can come and go as we please
But never further than the sound of our voice.
Throw me your voice now, just for practice:
I want to know, if I can hear you past the explosion,
If I can recognise you past the din.
We may not know who started the explosion
But we have to get past the original sin.
My heart was always, always yours.

Heart Fountain © 2015 Daphne C Alexopoulou
Heart Fountain © 2015 Daphne C Alexopoulou

Four

Four Blood Oranges © 2015 Daphne C Alexopoulou
Four Blood Oranges © 2015 Daphne C Alexopoulou

Four tracks scoring a scorching retreat
down your back
(gently now, we are not so young any more)
four tracks scoring the orange
hard,
as the smell takes over all else
and the colour dirties my fingernails
and I think
shall I end this? Shall I end
this parallel descent of my fingers?

Do I mark this obsession
with indelible raised furrows,
a monument to a history
of palpable happiness,
possible, plausible pleasurable
Bliss
or
do I go back to
Zen.

Nothing but ripples on pristine sand,
contained neatly,
purposefully,
quietly
in palest grey.
No smell, no colour,
no dank, organic smell,
no bigger purpose than staying
perfectly
still.