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Literature Text
Herd our confusion into the slow brink
of our becoming: Word, construct us
so as to writhe in the old wink
of our returning: I have a body
and it breaks, slowly and from the inside.
The tithe time takes is eternity.
Hear our confession: From the snow
our skin hides the body's blood and heat.
of our becoming: Word, construct us
so as to writhe in the old wink
of our returning: I have a body
and it breaks, slowly and from the inside.
The tithe time takes is eternity.
Hear our confession: From the snow
our skin hides the body's blood and heat.
Literature
More
I now love you more
I cherish you more
I treasure you more
I hope to be your light
Wherever we are
Whenever we are
Beyond my heart
Beyond the lands
I now know no more than you
And I all I want to do is
with you.
P.S.: I will keep writing for you.
Literature
The Streets Looked Different
The streets looked different, And the winds they didn't howl, Every single step I took, Was coupled with a scowl. And the streets felt different, They lost all memory, Somehow.
Literature
Understanding
I always said
that you had to show-
not tell me.
Because sometimes,
I don't understand.
Like when you met her,
You told me you fell in love.
I had to ask why
because sometimes
I don't understand.
But then you showed me:
i. How her smile makes knees tremble
ii. How her humour makes you laugh
iii. How her eyes pull you in
Then, I understood.
Now I'm one step closer
to being able to write
about somebody you love
with justice.
Making the words into a being.
Rather than a snippet of a Sunday morning
drabbling with no purpose, story or life
other than being something
which you sell on to make
money before the ink is even
dry.
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Comments5
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god fucking dammit this is beautiful.
interweaving miracles of embodiment and consciousness and their micro-cosmic war with each other, with themselves.
really really love what you do.
interweaving miracles of embodiment and consciousness and their micro-cosmic war with each other, with themselves.
really really love what you do.