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helium balloon lungsi. You write me notes scribbled on sandpaper
and I run them across my face,
scraping away layers of saccharine skin,
ii. Your eyes, made of cookie crumbs,
I'd like to dip them in milk
and watch them melt,
smoking like dry ice,
iii. You churn my childish heart
in circles and in circles
till I slip into cardiac arrest,
iv. I just remembered that time you
wrapped your arms around me like vines
and held me until you couldn't,
v. Oh what I'd give for a pair of
fortune cookie lungs,
exhaling self-fulfilling prophecy,
vi. I've been fishing for horoscopes,
pasting them onto my bedroom walls
and on the backside of my skin,
hoping that they tell me that
today is the day you will be mine,
vii. But your soul is made up of sins
and I do believe in forgiveness,
but forgive me, for I cannot forget.
let your wildfire run freei. It's a warm kind of rain and a growling kind of thunder,
throaty and crackling booms,
I've dreamt of this place before,
there's this room made up of tall glass windows,
outside is a wrap around balcony made up of stone with high ledges,
small fir trees grow in between the crackled rock
and I'm breathing slow, soaking in the sky's sweat.
ii. Perspiring and porous clouds melt over this broken land
and I'm realizing this place lives only inside my soul when sleeping.
iii. It is a hazy painting running over the contours of my unconscious mind,
it is airbrushed afterthoughts swirling with watercolor wishes,
it is the place where my nightmares breed and my hopes climb trees,
it is the place where intuition ricochets off instinct,
it is the place that says burn the place down and let your wildfire run free.
I dreamt of a flood and you were the waterLight bulb eyes,
burning through me like
crash into me
as I dream,
your ocean spits me out
through seaweed teeth,
and I love you,
but you blink light
and breathe water,
so not only am I blind,
I am drowning.
I am not RecyclableAs if I were recyclable,
your eyes break me down,
your gaze melts my aluminum limbs
and disintegrates my paper bones,
my heart leaps from the flames
and rides along the surface of your tongue,
because if you only knew how much I love you,
your taste buds would be burning for my blood,
if you only knew,
but you don't,
and I sure as hell can't tell you,
because you would use me
only to then throw me away.
Saltit's one of those
goldfish bowl empty afternoons,
gills grasping for water,
spilling over my aquatic limbs,
so thin boned and cold-blooded,
swordfish lips so sworn to
i cannot see a way out of drowning
in all of this
my fins lie still
as does my two-chambered heart,
you never actually did need any bate,
i hooked myself,
then released my own salty ghost,
you only just laid me out to dry,
gutted and seizing.
you are my careful ghosti. The air is thick and I'm drinking you in like sunlight through a silver straw,
I'm feeling like my spine has come unzipped and my crayola red innards have become exposed to the cool air,
you're like the slivers in my fingers that I can't pull out,
maybe I should try scraping off layers of skin with tweezers,
goodbye dead cells, hello fresh meat,
damn, why are you so fresh as fuck.
ii. A whirlpool has developed beneath my chest so there goes my sense of sanity,
actually it's more like boiling water, bubbling, spewing out passed my eyes,
and all I've been asking for is for you to either take me or let me go,
let's be honest, I could try to say I am over this whole thing
but I'm not and I don't even want to be.
iii. So let's forget the world,
get lost in each others skin,
tracing ribs like jail bars,
running hands over heartbeats,
brushing lips with lonely aches.
blue born licorice whips,
weaving webs for blood spiders on my thighs,
thin cerulean shoelaces tying knots around my wrists,
hold fast, heartbeats pumping like gasoline,
I am living, but I am not alive.
HallucinationsHe buries his head in the neck of a girl, who smells of flowers,
her aroma plagues his inhalations
like the smoke of weeping willow trees,
now as he exhales, he exhales kisses into
the long unending lines curving around her eyes like crescent moons,
for she is but a shy reflection of the sun
and he holds onto her like a shadow;
grasping at clouds with the outline of her silhouette,
using her as a tube of Vaseline, placing her over his eyes at night,
oh but then the daylight washes over him like bathwater,
waking him into a crisp clean air
where she cannot rid him of his wrinkles or internal emptiness,
because she only comes to life in the space where the subconscious reigns,
so he continues to live beneath layers of illusions,
building daydreams like skyscrapers,
breathing simply to sleep.
To love like a rocking horseYou are the highlight to my lonely night. You rush my mind like young currents rising onto the shore. I have no feeling in my fingertips and the air is thick and heavy and almost sweet. But these past few months have given breath to the void that lives in all of the empty places; space between ribs, backs of knees, and collarbone indentations. Oh, if only your body could bridge the gaps.
You know, I am sick of writing about you, nauseous actually. I don't want to smoke your pipe only to get high off loneliness anymore. The way I have ached for you, the way I have pined, is effervescent. Do I want you only because you are not mine?
No, I remember how the connection was instant and how looking at you made me nervous. Then when you first looked at me; chills.
I really do need to get over these feelings though. I need to detach my heart from my spine and stitch up the places I let your soul embrace. I need to patch up the places where your light touch took me away.
Screw all of this. I don
overwhelm a dusty
blackboard, I wonder
if linear mappings of
Banach space vectors
can hold the interwoven
polyphony of a fugue,
if the staggering
structure of Lie algebras
can be distilled into a
playfully dissonant symphony,
or if a mellow chorale
concerto would be capable
to evoke the vagaries of
locally ringed spaces,
and listening to your
voice bouncing off plastered
walls, I wonder if the
rhythm and cadence of words
can be transformed into
spindly limestone arches,
and if we, together, could
turn life to
beast& i am a wild thing running with the wolves
i have no name, i have no claims
i am a beast eating skin & bones
wandering forever alone
naked with no shame
If only she saw
My heart rate
As she approaches me
Like a hurricane in a jar
My lungs expand
My pupils blossom
My arteries scream for oxygen
They say 6 minutes without it would kill you
I've been watching her for eternity
But seconds must go by
She stops, matching my gaze
But does she match my pulse?
No answer needed.
CoupletMirror, Mirror sparkle well
Clinking shatter - dog age dwell
The first was marked with ruby swine
Pricking tips on spindle's twine
The next, I grant, you'll waken still
zombie corpse - the poor bride's shrill
Three, a year, so quickly spent
Bobbing Styx to hear screams lent
Then borrowing time, the timex four
Father weeps on rainman's door
When Yeller's rabies snuffed him out
Red fern wails just - fed Jack's sprout
And with five golden rings around the posie
Poor Humptey lost his ode to Rosy
Even Humptey lost to six, and seven
Aching glass to Snow White's heaven
Random HaikuHeart arrhythmia:
Love in a storm - water and
Il mal occhio?
Blessing and curse - thunder-struck
Moment our eyes met.
False mem'ry syndrome?
I recall you in places
That we never were.
It haunts me - the taste
Of kisses remembered though
Couldn't love you more.
Yet each day I awaken
And prove myself wrong.
The sound of my name -
Unpleasant, until sonant,
It fell from your lips.
Why should I love you?
Your eyes merely the windows
Through which I viewed God.
From the mojo you
Worked on me - I conclude: Free-
Civilised WildernessWe took the same places
As our younger selves.
The changes ignored
By moving bodies
Beyond the glass walls
Stood with the verse
And the unaltered city.
Displayed their feathers,
Crowns and anklets.
On any other rock
We would have stopped to dance.
Even the music,
Exotic in its step
With the air,
Was tempted by the static
Nature of our island.
The ink in the papers
Assures us with rumour;
The borders won't shift.
Among the birds and us
A collar is arrogance.
The intent of the bearer.
We are content with this.
We don't threaten change
Or invite it.
This is life
At its most adequate.
Our bonds chafe
Must be still.
news of the night:
they're madly searching for fresh acts of God
(or quantum luck) on second floors,
scattered tumblers in trailer parks.
nevermind the great uncertainty
leaning down your neckline,
the untelling weight-hood and period-luminosities
they teach you to ignore in school
until your comfortable derangement
can be seen from a dozen parsecs away
as one more animal armageddon.
why don't our hands,
against our weather?
LithiumA single trickling rain drop
Like gossamer silk strands
Gliding along my third eye
Whispers wind's secret caress
I exhale. Lungs releasing-
Pressing translucent memories;
Fragment of a fragment
As water kisses rose petal,
Drifting down stream's curtain
Pretty little curtain.
Where the wizard lies.
He smiles up at me
With his monocled brow-
Sipping on warm tea
And fingers quacking casually
To the rhythm of his notes
This is a safe-zone. Free-zone.
Innocent eyes sparkle,
Imploring it to be true. I breathe.
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^Nyx-Valentine arrived in our community and started whipping everyone into a frenzy with her relentless desire to bring the Artistic Nude and Fetish galleries to the fore. 9 years later, and it's safe to say that Nyx is not only a leader as a photographer in these galleries, but she has also established herself as a much saught after model. ^... Read More