Tag 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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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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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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i dont (episode 4: a breakout series)

i don’t remember the last time i remembered myself, caught the lobe of my ear dangling off a ray of the star, Sirius, loud and self-embracing me, i’m tired of the pick apart put together caused by self-explosion and the … Continue reading

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i don’t (episode 3: a breakout series)

i don’t have the will to wake some days, to rent another breath that compounds this loan when I already don’t make enough joy (i know my right eye twinkles with three less rays than that passerby) now, I’ve had … Continue reading

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i don’t (episode 2: a breakout series)

i don’t take risks anymore, i don’t sink my hands into the welcoming grit of moistened ground, i hope to be stopped by gold at my feet, afraid of dirty though my face is read, and my veins have blown, … Continue reading

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