The love story of the snow and the sun

Snow piling on your shoulders, light flakes becoming heavier

& things evolving to something related to the word complicated.

Branches weep, because they are naked.

They shiver in the cold, and no one holds them

to keep them warm.

They think I am too cold to love, the snow cries.

And most certainly it was horrible as she

had fallen in love with the sun.

They are unable to touch each other;

they are unable to make love;

they are unable to hold;

but they love no matter what.

The snow can only watch the sun; she can witness the sun waking up

with a smile, when he sees the snow looking at him with love.

Faded colors, vintage sky and factory smoke

all were jealous of the love story the snow & the sun.

The boats sailed across the world to share the story of the century.

No one in Maldives believed that the sun could fall in love with such a thing as snow.

In the Antarctica no one believed that the snow could ever fall in love

with something that is the deadliest thing to her love.

The boats sailed to places such as Congo, Switzerland and Paraguay.

Branches, the naked and shivering ones, wondered how it was possible.

Wondering people believe in limits, boundaries and restrictions.

The world slips through the fingers of wondering, rational people.

There world is not that complicated --

the snow is in love with the sun.

Simple, as the boats said to the story listeners in Bulgaria.

One day the spring will come, though.

The love story of the snow and the sun is a short story.

Helsinki when it is the coldest

A child asks her mother where snow comes from.

She says it comes the sky, from the heaven.

I thought to myself she the sky is her limit.

You took my hand,

and before I knew I fell.

It was my first time ice-skating.

There are boundaries only if you create ones for yourself.

I stood up and fell again.

You laughed.

Kindly with a smile.

They have snow in the churches, too.

You are lying.

No, no, honestly.

You are playing with me.

No, I am completely serious. Go and see for yourself.

They really have snow in the churches? I asked with a great wonder.

And then I remembered...

...there were no boundaries for imagination either.

You loved snow

almost as much you loved me, you had said.

This is Helsinki, you said proudly.

This is where my home --

I wanted to interrupt you and say you live with me now --

was until I met you.

We have some buildings that are unfortunate enough to be unloved

for most their lives...

...and then we have others that only know unloved

as a word, not an emotion.

And you? I asked.

I am the fortunate enough, you replied

and kissed me in the snow.

Planning the future & forgetting the current

I am strong enough to tell you

I love you very much.

We plan future, we discuss what we should do today and tomorrow and next month and perhaps even what we have drawn for next five years. You talk about having children & so do I, but it really is irrelevant, because they are the ones who do scribbles on the walls of cities.

You are the reason why I undressed in the harbor

naked in front of the whole world

in front of

you.

Helsinki is in a total chaos; buses come whenever they are able to reach the destination; trains miss their stations, because they are too exhausted to carry frustrated passengers who are filling their guts; airplanes say we have had enough, we need to make love so we will be unable to forget how it feels to be in love; boats and ships break the ice in the sea, two lovers separated with force. And we plan the future.

You said

dress up, you will get cold.

I told

I won't, you keep me warm.

This story is a short one; when things go according to other person's plans, there are new opportunities for everyone else. Unfortunately we see only the shattered imaginary future in our plants instead of the seeds of something new. I wonder constantly where I will be next year -- maybe I continue living in Croatia. Perhaps I have shifted to the Netherlands. I never think of the United States again, but the truth is that I would like to go back.

The following morning I woke up next to you

still naked, clothes laying two feet away from us.

You opened your eyes and said

even the sunrise is not as beautiful as you are.

Things you do for love, they say.

When it was warm in Helsinki

I wish to learn to be everywhere all the time; to be here in Helsinki while my fingers make love to my fiancé's soft skin; study in the Netherlands while I kiss the dust of Sahara under the exploding sky; my heart desires to be here and there and even though they say nothing is impossible, people meet their limits in one way or another. I came to Helsinki last week for the first time in six months & at first I was afraid, no idea where I had arrived, left behind my love in Croatia, entered unknown and now after four days I'm bitterly disappointed that I am unable to stay in the city longer than just a week. No matter what I ever say, Helsinki & her people will always be my home, this is the city where I was raised; where I witnessed my first snowflakes, sunshine, birds and hawks; where everything for me began. Helsinki is a city that never expects anything back, she keeps giving and giving and after awhile you are bored of everything new you receive -- only when you leave and new ceases, you begin to appreciate the moments once again.

My current visit to Helsinki was the shortest in the history; I came here last Thursday and I most probably will leave day after tomorrow which makes me very sad. This is my city; I never imagined that I would actually leave the Nordic (sometimes mistakenly also Scandinavian) Queen for good. Funnily enough I never miss the city when I am away; however, whenever I come and visit Helsinki it gets harder and harder to leave it. Especially as it seems that my visits are getting just shorter and shorter; at this pace, it will soon become a stranger to me.

HELSINKI 2008; AUTUMN.

I like to disco I like to party I like to groove, but more importantly I like to

all the things mentioned above with Helsinki.

The bay of Toolo said that Helsinki is a poor dancer;

he told a lie so only he would have a glimpse to disco-moves in Heaven.

Autumn told me that the bay and she had been lovers once, but when

Helsinki danced with the leaves, it all was over after that

-- they both fell for the city.

I take trams in the city.

I take buses in the city.

I take metros in the city.

I take walks in the city.

And when I do things mentioned above

I am more and more in love with Helsinki.

The Bay of Toolo, autumn and I watch Helsinki constantly, non-stop.

And she watches us, always with love.

And we all are happy.