Category Archives: black art

2 until the end of days (And if it starts)

The waters that rush with my blood vessels through my veins would turn to wine, and like a messiah, i’d invite the world to drink from me in celebration because what’s being tapped when the eyes that fill you with … Continue reading

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1 until the end of days

can i rip a kiss from time, time, “time”? it’s 3:49 am and my consciousness is wrapped in the under-saturated technicolor of dreams, my legs wrapped in your sheets, labia wrapped by your lips, i breath in time, time, time … Continue reading

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what do you take for the calcification of desire, what pushes out the aortic stone, sometimes caught in the left chamber, sometimes the throat? i take a tincture dropper filled with the memory of my latest favorite album, the taste … Continue reading

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The shore is self-realized, every minute mineral owned by itself and the others, and meets but does not need the ocean, although passersby see them exist as one, like the sky and that cloud which hangs like bated breath in … Continue reading

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i arose at five, peeled a banana and hung it above your raising lids you got your first menses when the moon was waning       it was critical to rerun your growth as the moon carved itself away … Continue reading

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The Unheard Pain You Know

you know you didn’t birth the yolk of growth to a flower’s bloom, and you can’t wind-shake the thought of the plagiarization of scars from your skin this wound is copyrighted, but the world named me as velvet-tongued martyr these … Continue reading

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An Ode to Poem-A-Day

i leave already read poems in my inbox. eye them as treasures, Jacks-in-the-box I know will tickle the child inside that cries. how they stay there, dusty with neglect, and how they glow with the quality to hold on hand … Continue reading

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