Poeme du jour / Daily poemEt ton sourire fantômedans le lit froid de mesdix-sept ansAnd your ghostly smilein the cold bed of myseventeenth year
Unlocked My sexual desires, moaning &
NaPoWriMo #6 - Muteshe fills her mouth withsilence and watcheswords burn: they tastethe way summer ends.
stillyou lust to make his long legs quiverlike two blades of grassheavy with morning dewbut you're the first frost of november.
The Science of LivingWe are water and ichor,we are air and memoirs,we are fire and oreand clay struck by stars.This is the science of living.We are arsenic and porphyry,we are helium and spirit,we are mercury and maladyand neon and kismet.This is the science of living.We are roses and riot,we are daisies and sanguine,we are bracken and velvetand amaranth and omen.This is the science of living.
Vomit and SinewI stopped knowing you when I found him.You faded so far into the background I’ve nearly forgotten your face,and now I wonder what you ever really meant to me.You were once all that mattered.All that gave me solace in a world of darkness I never understood back then..And I was so certain of you.So painfully certain you were the melody my soul was dying to play.That song with its tender nuances, and delicate notes of pain.Though your pain is so close to elegance I find it startlingly beautiful.Like a swan slowly bleeding to death.Where right from the beginning, he reminded me of a wolf.Baring its teeth as its body decomposes.Rotting while still alive.Snarling with rage and hopelessness that has haunted me ever since..While my memories of you manifest as something only quietly sad.Distant and forgettable.He prods at corners so dark I never knew they existed.He drags demons and skeletons out of closets just to make love to them.He entwines himself with images
i and youwho is it thatyou dream of?is it mewith the knife in your back;do you see methe woman witha wolf jawcut slack in a growl?do i pounce you?do you defeat mewith the knifei gave you?and i wonder the soundof me when you finally put your demonto rest--she is a venus(her body cut fromthe ivory tusk with hips like that of a valley, breasts shaped astwo moons caught inher breath)and i am the trapshe slips into.i cut her headinto a loop land wear her round my necklike lace.
unsaidthere are things better left unsaidthings better left unspokenwhen we wake up in sorrow's eyesand paint the world with gray..And joy is fleeting,love is a kissin the upside down world,where things don't make sense..But the ink in my bloodalways draws me backand says:this cannot beyou belong to me.
VagueI hide behind a mask of my own selves;then you don't know which of all of them I really am for a moment.