Postcards to you

12/03/2025

12/03/2025

Your salty lips are moving
The sounds melt into the cold floorboards
For the first time silence
Closer and further away
With the tide
The lines you’re made of spill over rugged carpets
The sea glimpsed through a round window
The grey that was never blue
Spiderwebs swaying in the draft-
Unfinished sketches

05/03/2025

Closing/opening doors

25/02/2025

Just passing by

20/02/2025

Entangled
A gentle caress
I give away little parts of me
Unknowingly
The gesture becomes routine
I lose what is yours to keep

17/02/2025

When you carry the weight
Stop apologising

13/02/2025

New chapter.
Just like moons and like suns,
With the certainty of tides,
Just like hopes springing high,
Still I rise.

13/02/2025

Slowly letting go

07/02/2025

Suddenly, I saw my life in the art museum behind the glass. But with all the things that didn’t work - dead plants, broken friendships, clothes that shrunk, feelings, all labelled with dates and short descriptions. Some kids were pointing at things and their parents were explaining calmly where they came from. Others were taking pictures and sharing their knowledge: “I know because I’ve been there”. In the shop you could buy wooden and plastic impressions of different memories made into keyrings and magnets. Some were stealing them, others thought they were too expensive. I never felt so seen, but as soon as I felt that… someone took away the feeling, put it on a shelf and labelled it. Nothing was really mine and everything had a name.

01/02/2025

35 spins around the sun
I realised I made so many choices out of fear of letting go or just to conform, which is completely the opposite of me. So I’m starting to change this narrative. Today I’m writing 35 fears on 35 paperplanes and releasing them from the cliff onto the sea. Let the weirdness come back, happy birthday to me!

22/01/2025

Reminiscing summers and tides out. Not the wind

15/01/2025

Ceofiofi

14/01/2025

In a dream you saw a way to survive and you were full of joy

11/01/2025

Ask your dresses whose body they held in
And the womb who picked it
Ask your curtains how was the laughter, the crying, the abandonment
Does the carpet remember every thread of your hair
The bed sheets the weight of a broken body
Ask
The minty walls in whose colour you’re trapped in
How to feel lonely in a house full of people
Answer in your kids’ chalk drawings, in the hidden rooms dream
Answer in a neverending broken car
Answer in a dog, in the absence of traditions
Bury the broken mirror in the light of the moon
Make a cross spit three times
Say goodbye to the parts that never belonged to you

09/01/2025

Nothing but the warmth
Ankles and wrists holding onto meat
The same bleak world,same bodies grasping
Onto each other looking for more than skin
No beginning, no end
Just a feeling of loss
Just a feeling of familiarity as my days pass by
Cutting the smoke in between mirrors
From one room to the other
Glimpses of me
As the light falls on your uneven paintings
I become the sea I become the crowd I become the house I become the time
Nothing but the warmth
Nothing but the cold
My heart