Hamartia

A Poem by rafaelcorreia_aa

To all my "Sofias"

“Sofia”, because I wanted to be loved

You were "Sofia" because I didn't want to be different.

You don't look like her anymore because I know I am.

You have had many names and faces, but for me you have always been my precious "Sofia".

I have even gifted you a physical body a few times, but you have never set foot on the ground.

One of your attempts was different.

You were beautiful, red-haired with hazel eyes, blue braces that highlighted your smile, you were a Poetess.

I chained us together so that only I fell, not to alarm you, not to crack my newest creation.

When I saw you, I was twelve years old again, I remembered the first Sofia and I made you like that, perfect and only mine to see.

Damned world that doesn't bring me to you.

Accursed me for always creating you so misleadingly tangible.

You began as a lie and now you're the most real part of me.

The part I love and despise the most.

The one that makes me blush and dream, but also the one that makes me ponder gasoline as a lovely perfume and a spark as a clip, starting to embrace me by the hair.

It always starts with your hair.

I glimpse a fissure in your marble thigh that now oozes wine, a fissure that I still don't know how to fix, a wine that I don't know how to savor no matter how many liters I drink.

Maybe the recipe to make you truly corporeal is already in the taste, but I still don't know how to taste it.

So i abandon you, unfinished.

No more poetry.

I put down my pencil and turn the page on a leather notebook.

I see you.

Handwritten in pen.

This excruciating ink that I can't get rid of.