Cristina I. Viviani
SIX POEMS

free zones
sometimes
things that stay
aahum
gravity's acessories
an interruption

About Christina I. Viviani

free zones

the moon rolls down                      the tip                  of her tongue                             when one sentence
becomesa hairline crack                                                        turn it off                                 and an other
a great rift                       she said                                             divinity spirals                 underground
rubescent clouds             hang from the sky                              behind the skin        between the bones
we are indigo silhouettes                                   against the wall                                            fingers grazing
shards of glass                                           pressing in                                            searching hollows
you are      the only thing                                                 that looks good                                   on me now
lean towards            so              you will wear me                           for a while                            she swims
into the wind                     kiss her nipple                                 how we fall                         from one
into an other                                         showing off                                                         free zones

sometimes

alchemical waters                            kiss photons                in the dark                             folds of skin
tighten my lips                        a moment of silence                         skips                              fill me in
touch with each line                                     turn the page                        watch the sun illuminate red
they see and become blind                           white light bleeds                               the hand of delivery
reassembled                   orange blossoms                                     in sweet milky mint              and black tea
enter the myth                            immaculate conception/deception                      provoke confessions
in the night                                         i thought of you                                                           sometimes
turn me on                       ores ripen          in the telluric waitress                                      i mean womb
a rearrangement                                    we are no longer                                              face and lean
fifteen minutes                           is a long time           to wait                                                so is one

things that stay

tulips and down         pillows comfort the sun         i dreamt you                             turned over to hold
in transit                   slide down                         stir ups                                          hips open wide
undulation                ultrasound eyes                                   death is not final                       breathe
in a lime pickle jar                               parturition                                                           has turned
into a fish                               the lens              convex                                  vibrations and dilations
enter                                                                        exit                                         we enter blind
face down                                        amniotic base                                  hot stream of consciousness
savor each breath                                  in waves                                                          the pain will
proclaim                   the moon’s highlights            in a trance                                  the things that stay
a question mark                      is a hot cross bun                       on its side                      coax the child
crown breaking                  roll over                                slip reclining                         exit the binding

aahum

and how sweet are                                            the dates these days                                            she asked sugar coated clouds                              blush                 under the sun                          seeping silence
honeysuckle porn stars                                             loom over                                          in-activity
reoccurring periods                                                    pass the plane                                in the night sleep with me                                             the aftershocks                                                        linger
innuendo                  stay inside                           to kiss a stone                                          fill my belly 
with the smoothness                                     of your head                                                    in recognition
awaken                                         dissolve into                               an absence                      of light
she has seen him                              times before                by the water’s edge                  undressing
before diving                    spend the night                      unveil sleep                                    from the corners
black and pearly                         suspended feathers                                                     a cerulean sky
now he feeds them                                 in mid-flight                                         lumps of white bread
rolled between fingers                                his cart a home                           clothes hanger and pantry
when there is too much                  behind his eyes                                                       she cannot see

gravity’s accessories

the moon hangs                                        its crooked smile                                         morning glory
and the sky begins                      where my face ends                                                      cinnabar pill
how a kiss                                                fills the space                                             amethyst columns
inside                                    she lies dreaming                                                  shadows in captivity 
eye          on the surface      submerging                      she waits                                      flower habits
nodding                                             erect                                                                        pendent
lies of projection                             flask of fire                    come with                          night murmurs
hands free                       laces undone                                                                                silk falls
labyrinthine walls                                 she scatters rice                                              the phone rings
an interruption                           many people                                                                      in a bed
heart beat                                                         blind rain                                                 loon’s call
threads unspoken                                  words hung                                                  when stones fly

an interruption

stay close                   she wants to know               the  intermediary states                      watch for the light
and walk towards                                      everything is seen                                    the colour it rejects
the child finds                         the turquoise bird             face down                           in the toilet bowl
wings outspread                           shades drawn                  she was afraid                 some      i made up
spidery cool hand                                     milk blue eyes                                             bodies laid out
embryos in the earth                             phone rings                                                    an interruption
her hand quivers                                            eyelids close                                    beneath infant skin
feather bones                                 blue illuminates                                              her translucent face
black’s feast of colour                                  white is dead                                                phone rings
rest here                                                the gaze pierces                                                  in a glass jar
at this moment                                            an interruption                                      i will call tomorrow
before the rain                                       it’s been                                                                a long time
is an intervening line                        the question mark                                 drawn    across the screen

CRISTINA I. VIVIANI is an interdisciplinary artist with a background in architecture, dance improvisation, visual art and writing. She is currently working on a series of poetic, architectural images. This project focuses on shifting perceptions and a re-interpretation of place(ment). On a more personal level, some of Cristina’s favorite things in life are: 1) green tea and bittersweet dark chocolate, 2) curious intersections of all kinds and 3) long periods of silence.