imagine us fucking in a skyscraper and you bite into me very carefully, the juice running down your chin; my head tipped back like a madonna from the 1940s: when they only had sex in uniforms, and the sky-lights stayed sacred and dizzy and far away.
Tag: orginal poetry
poem: what he almost gave me was not his to give
we are not yet dust, we are still holding on, breathing carefully; the solar lights in the club flickeronoff, onoff. I thought you were beautiful once and especially, as you smiled at me more and more, you become like art. Your eyes turned from drained out blue to exotica; you went up in clouds like… Continue reading poem: what he almost gave me was not his to give
poem: but I’m almost twenty
just before the dawn i am always ashamed of the impossible things i dream and i wake up crying for men unsaved and for my ugly impossible ego. Because i, of course, am going to save the world.
poem: virgin in the bookstore
see this: a girl draped over her table with moths and green vines all thick and hot inside her, their lisping mouths poking up through her fingernails, their strong buds opening between her legs; she is tightening and turning softly in the chair, softlysoftlysoftlysoftly so that the library people do not hear the rustling of… Continue reading poem: virgin in the bookstore
poem: sad confession put to good music
i am still loving you carefully and cautiously and finally (finally!) the words are pouring out of me like music. they told me: forget, because he will forget. Do not bother to remember the faires breathing small and quick in the cracks of our lives. do not bother, because they die like moths in the… Continue reading poem: sad confession put to good music
he was like Japanese anime from the 90’s
he was like Japanese anime from the 90's: he made her melancholy in 2019, her knees pressed up against the computer screen, the little people smiling blandly into their porclein coffee-mugs. she was wearing white-blue jeans, her eyelashes were bleached, and the traffic went by slowly and silently: there is a parade of cars and… Continue reading he was like Japanese anime from the 90’s
poem: almost song lyrics. almost.
i burned my tongue on late november last year, we were still together. and now, lonely girls sit under fake blue moons, twisting their lives into small categories: the before and the after. hey, don't think it's romantic just because of the lo-fi coffee sounds. last year, we were bold and defiant: miniature buddhas bounced… Continue reading poem: almost song lyrics. almost.
poem: delusional man
I am not so good at this, she says: the creaking of her hands being wheeled behind her head, and the gears pulling a smile taunt over her too-life-like face, the blue eyes put flat above wavy almond hair, the color of it perfect inspiration, a lucky miracle that comes from the painter staring outside… Continue reading poem: delusional man
poem: girlhood in fantasy
the spring is too flat here; there are no grand peaks in the clouds, no witches asleep over grey moors, their brooms spliced out into moss and heather. these are meant to be the wailing times and yet when I stand outside, I hear nothing. there should be the tromping of boots as my sister… Continue reading poem: girlhood in fantasy
poem: seungri, burning sun
he was desperate: too in love with the madness in his soul that came with applause and with people laughingsmilinglaughing at him; the concerts halls smoked up with the devil and the afterparties full of hands clapping his shoulders because it was only him making it. and he had carved immorality into the drug-sick swaying… Continue reading poem: seungri, burning sun
the last pavilion 