Category Archives: black art

All Because I Thought You Looked Like Wisdom

You’re the latest love to turn me to a poem, after time and trauma stoppered Understanding too weak to lift rhythm from the the waving hands of the word “waist” (or was it waste), which type of time tripped me … Continue reading

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5 until the end of days (la loteria, mi amiguita)

If I were to scratch at my desire for you, what would be found beneath that? I found a single lady, for loneliness, and 15 cents. But to scratch at the joy I feel when with you, to let my … Continue reading

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4 until the end of days

Your wooden wind-chime laughter showers the back of my neck, and I am soothed. You are the anticipation of warm summer rain polluted with crashes of thick white lightning, you are near-death experiences in the ocean, that first breath of … Continue reading

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3 until the end of days

this empty mug of sorrow won’t let itself be poured out, beneath the penetration of sun rays thirsty for the evaporation condensation precipitation of tears and tea, and the continuation of a life at this state of Wait unlike this … Continue reading

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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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“Catch-22”

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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