A few days after existing I dreamt I was in a home in the middle of the night all alone to trade my heart for a stone . I thought she would walk away the cat watching at my gates but she has grown under the moon she is my…
Now submit. Submit. Sub mit. To the hours, the stairs the uncertainty of the floor tilting beneath your raised foot. To echoes of whirling voices, dissonance and rain bouncing on borrowed graves. To pushing, pausing wondering if this holds meaning or sympathies for floppy haired fascism. We do…
Crushed lips Colour me in every eye. Watching. With hands. Restless. Seeking. Accepting. Misunderstood. Soft Nests. With Every step Exeitment evokes. Cant conquer the tones of past rythms. Calm will find you. Through plumes douces et pierres. When the drop breaks Melts your skin. When the masses surround your foot.…
You have nurtured beauty back to me . Sun full moons manifesting life moving air . Evoking a long missed touch, un-naming as children do while fires are spreading, sprouting fé in plasmatic eroding bursting ways as asteroids pass by; I saw you…
. Once in a hall of summer on a sticky floor rolling roaring with laughter and beaming smiles shouting into air as air . Climbing all those steps knocking at the stones front door “it’s only me, let me come in” Carpeted floors in hallways the corners inhabited…
// from echos across honeycomb floors of the cityhall: half-cut planets your eyes an orbit from pupil to the lines around your mouth open i miss your touch your tongue shapes experiences you sense like mints dear child you transform every tip, joint and toe points a different direction rolling…
Walking through heather and fern onto a mountain hill Laying on a bed of stones they press into my body from different angles Placing a hand on my stomach and wonder where your stone is placed Finding a puce rock weightless filled with pores…
here by the window I die a little quietly every sunset with a cigarette in my right hand this is where I meet with my restless, my anxious, my lonely, my most volnurable the soft spot my breath refuses to reach if it was not for the smoke…
The sun and the moon converse: “If I told you that I miss you would you know what I want?” the moon whispered and the sun glowing as a sun does listened “can you see my colours though you are so bright?” the moon continued and with warmth the sun…
waking up with shattered glass in my eyes a frosted stomach a piece of the heart darkened a beautifully pierced shadow and the night still lingering laying in a gigant ocean-bed of infinite fleshy pounding hearts that will bloom with time …
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