A vintage truth

Photographs are blurred memories, of faked, chipped, plastered walls cracking like walnuts, eating its own body- Walls & bones dissolving inside the tooth of dust, memories can be fatal, if picturized or vandalised. All memories collide inside flaky cheeks producing abhorrence of stars, photographs stick like a parasite to your naked soul & exposes the… Continue reading A vintage truth


How many cuts does it take for a tree to heal? Beneath the dark trunk of the Cedar tree, memories and lives are buried Above that same tree, premonitions of death and twitches exist Symphony along with words is music like soft poppies dancing in circles on my bulky breasts, (dripping sound of sweat, wax)… Continue reading Denouement


      The protrusion of sultry roads chokes my unborn laughter. my teeth dropping off the tiniest molecule of red wires sharp, electric, bizarre. I doubt your tongue, human! For chills are deceptive often. Summons of thunder on my pale lips now your sturdy words, collide, oh human! Your tricks are electric. Your tricks… Continue reading Electric