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Literature Text
Down my neck and under my shirt,
I'll remember where you were.
Explore my skin,
all the places you have been.
Kiss me, I'll bite your lip.
I really will miss all of this.
I'll remember where you were.
Explore my skin,
all the places you have been.
Kiss me, I'll bite your lip.
I really will miss all of this.
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Literature
About Art
Nobody will ever love an artwork
as passionately as the artist
And nobody will ever hate an artwork
as deeply as the artist,
cause it holds a part of themselves inside
And it might be a photograph of
the beauty of their mind
but also a mirror for
the abysses of
their soul
Literature
The Art of Detachment
dehumanized:
I am a stirring in the breath
of an unswept sky, an itch
in the throat, a tear in
the lining of the sleeve you
keep fingering- like reminiscence
will repair loose strands
(I woke up this morning
in a new carcass, trapped,
by fleshed out flaws and
dismal dreams and the
hush hush thrum ,steady,
[pulsations are riddled with
intent] of my veins)
I am the dents in the floorboard
where boxes of I-can-never-forgets
lay, I am the aching cold of walls
untouched, I am the callouses
of your fingers forgetting
how to work.
(my voice will melt the icecaps,
it will draw all salt from
the ocean and carve a careful
coffin
Literature
we are all of us art
we are all of us art
all colored
by our wills
and won'ts
shading our eyes
from sunrises
sighs and hopes
chiseled into our skins
we are gradients
from start to end
to new beginning
and then
we have penciled in
all the ever after
hanging paintings from the rafters
with chapters of artistic zen
we are each a calligraphic pen
our inks
have spanned the distance
we bemoan
we fill the skies and sea
with prose and poem
and fashion new designs
from cirrus borne
our very forms
are swirling paints
and ordered space
and twirling ornate bone
we are the details
we call our own
we make this canvas blank
our home
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Comments2
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Send me a note if you do!! i really enjoyed it 