~oxford-comma
Tatou Outopos
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your love which cuts throughyour love cuts through me like an arrow finds every rift in my armour platingyour love which cuts through
from your wounds seep an irresistable heat, a scent that permeates as it draws the ardours of your swain the fey cavort on a midsummer's night without your grace the fox devours them without your cunning you superfulity entices and your simplicity holds thrall holds me near enough to make you the ghost. pale mists conceal your blossom, yet still i feel it there
by ~oxford-comma
the ruckus permeates the wallsthe ruckus permeates the walls wolfish howls and earpiercing screams among the racket the Noise rebukes me bent and brokenthe ruckus permeates the walls
under the pad of a foot silenced and smothered in rising mud which will not come off which soaks into my skin porous sponge holds more than it touches the stain now dwells, deepening
as time passes
your cries grow shrill perked ears catch the tearing at flesh, the bruising of skin unfettered nor free waiting grows interminable silence grows interminable over the noise of your screams Perspire Wh
by ~oxford-comma
Empty SpaceEmpty space holds the brush of you skin Stale air brightens with your scent Just in case I might forget your sins As though I could eschew your embrace Eternal Joke - that I have a choice Cool kisses brushed on my neck Heart in throat when I hear your voice You have all that matters Damned enzyme that holds me in stead Cold curse that exiles me from you Love's crime crime is in leaving me for dead You have ruined me for all othersEmpty Space
by ~oxford-comma
UnconditionalMy love for you is not unconditional With whiskers twitching we are as rats in a maze Uncertainty guiding our every movement Small powers are cached or taken away So my love for you is not unconditional Your eye’s glint, your sharp bite bother me not Your heart I can hold on the tip of my finger Then crush flat underfoot For my love of you is not unconditional And whims of the world confuse me so Forgive me if I do retract the motion If forgiveness be what I desireUnconditional
by ~oxford-comma
Favourites
exhalation.Sixteen. Sixteen years since she was the size of a deflated lung beneath her mothers ribcage- now she has her own mass beneath her ribcage. Thumping sometimes to the outside, treating the skin of Laylla's stomach like a door. It will open in 3 months, it will be sliced open because her flesh is meat and they'll bring Sophie to air and she'll swallow until all she tastes is that dull white of the hospital. And then she'll cry and the music will drone in Laylla's ears until she tastes vomit and she is numb in all the aching places.exhalation.
She doesn't know the father. She thinks Michael but she tells herself it is Louis. She repeats his na
by =Pretty-As-A-Picture
Bad PoetryDear --,Bad Poetry
I began your letter at the stop sign on Third Street and lost it in a traffic jam on Hemming Way; you would've rolled your eyes at the name, so I tried to imagine you sitting beside me. That's what did it, of course--I had a perfectly good sentence and it went right out the window
with sentiment.
See there--I was trying to redeem myself by writing a poem, but apologetic prose doesn't like to share. I had grand illusions--something about a word o
by `GeneratingHype
more love
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Devious Info
- Current Residence: Chicago, or close enough
- Interests: Artsy-fartsy stuff. Also arguing.
- Favourite movie: Moulin Rouge, Office Space, House of Yes, Pinocchio, The Proffessional, Whale Rider
- Favourite band or musician: the dodos. props to fiume. Also Yann Tiersen's a god.
- Favourite genre of music: whatever it is Tiersen writes when he's sober.
- Favourite poet or writer: Isaac Asimov. Did you know he had a mag? Alan Lightman
- Personal Quote: Life is a constant battle between the heart and the brain. But guess who wins. The skeleton. –J
- Tools of the Trade: pen, paper, paint, the blood of innocents. The normal stuff.
- Email: weiruihai@gmail.com
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