Confession

Words: Nav K
Vocals: Nav K
Music: Robin Guthrie & Harold Budd - So Many Short Years Ago
Track/album photo: Nav K

[All rights to the music belong to the original artists, Robin Guthrie and Harold Budd, and have been used herein solely for nonprofit, noncommercial purposes.] 

Note: Some words are harder than others to pronounce, harder even to mean sincerely. This piece was among one of the hardest for me to write because the words just weren't forming the way I imagined them in my head. As a result, I've been continually putting off finishing it. But at the same time, I kept feeling compelled to do so. 

More than a poem, this is something that I've been trying to say for a long, long time. And still, I have doubts whether I'm saying anything at all. 

Also, I'm recovering from a deathly cold, so excuse my voice a little. 

- - -

I love you like a confession. 
When I say this to you,
I am not telling you.
I am admitting a fact, 
disclosing an intimate secret 
that is not really a secret. 
But every time the words 
leave my lips, this is the shape 
they take: quiet and careful. 
Words that do not wish to harm 
you, but rather to heal you. 
They are words that want to 
make you soup on cold days, 
hold you close, make you feel safe, 
and give you all the time, comfort, 
and support that you should ever need.
These words are hands that reach 
through phone lines and towers 
and satellites and concrete walls 
and distracted drivers in sleepy cities, 
to put a finger on a shaking lip,
to work out the knots in the back 
of your neck after a long, terrible day. 
I can feel something quiver 
inside me at their utterance, 
a strange shiver harping my spine. 
Three words become music that I 
never learned how to play. 
But I play on. 
“I love you” - beyond words, 
it’s performative speech. 
It is “doing” more than “telling,” 
an action between nouns, 
the most profound verb 
to ever grace a living being. 
Sometimes, I am so afraid of 
those words put together,
of what they really say and the 
kind of power they hold. 
They and their meaning are as 
much of a mystery to me as you are. 
Perhaps that is why they fit you 
better than on anyone else. 
I love you to the point where it hurts 
because I keep confessing and
confessing and confessing. 
Admitting that I am my strongest 
in my weakness, that weakness 
makes me weak less and that 
vulnerability is a lesson 
in slowing down, learning 
to appreciate little things. 
Like imperfections, 
and mispronounced words, 
and each of our own 
excruciating reactions to spiders. 
I love you from the ground up. 
First realistically, then irrationally.
Fantastically. Completely. 
To the point where I want to 
keep confessing, over and over again. 
Because I know with all of my being 
that this is the most absolute truth 
I will every tell in my whole life.

- Nav K


Nav K - Confession

Nav K - Chill
Music: Lowercase Noises - Rushes

[All rights to the music belong to the original artist, Lowercase Noises, and have been used herein solely for nonprofit, noncommercial purposes.]

- - -

Chill 

Engagement in conversation is confirmation of intellect and a combination of predicates that evoke  provocation. So upon confrontation my mind takes sets and compilations of audio-visual concentration. Once I discovered she spoke my language I crossed her off every list, suddenly tempted to lick the condensation off her lips. I hoped to god I wasn't complicating or over compensating for beauty beyond contemplation. But I was hoping to collaborate on that canvas, stroke her like a candid work of art expanded into enchanted flesh and form. I'd implore her to stay so we could explore the human race and celebrate, never denigrate the bliss that we'd be in. Until we levitate to the point of elevation in attempt to compose a dictionary of skin. So while I fantasize about everything between her lips and thighs, I match her stride and my insides start to spill. I say: 

I'm no soothsayer I'm just a smooth layer of chill. I'm here to inundate you with words you've already heard but in a different sequence of meaning and need. And I know of you've been told that you're beautiful, but I'm here to make you believe it indeed.

- Nav K

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