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January 11, 2025 2:25 am

MALADROIT – Poetry, by Jordi Cornudella

MALAPTESA > Jo no sabia què fer del meu cos, els braços que semblaven mig cenyir-te però no les mans – i tu em vas ajudar. Salvant a l’aire el gest vas acollir-lo. Vas salvar el gest, i més: al seu redós de sobte el que era pla va ensenyar uns nous corrents més àgils dins l’aigua quieta. De sobte aquella mar tenia un fons que només descobrien els teus ulls – i allà al fons el vertigen desvetllat. L’amor que jeu al pou mort de l’entranya va somoure’s, més lleu que no vam creure. D’aquella gorga, el temps (vull dir el costum) ens en va prendre la set capritxosa, la curiositat, i una mica la por.maladroit.1.1

MALADROIT > I didn’t know what to do with my body, arms that threatened to half embrace you but not my hands-and you helped me. You welcomed the gesture, rescuing it mid-air. You rescued the gesture and also, gave it shelter, so what was easy suddenly revealed some new quickened currents in those once still waters. Suddenly that sea had a depth only your eyes could discover- and in those depths a wakened vertigo. Love lying in the dead well of the gut stirred, so slightly we couldn’t believe it. From that gurge, time (I mean habit) robbed us of our capricious thirst, our curiosity and our fear, somewhat.

(Jordi Cornudella)

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