A spotless space

I have a place to myself, where I die each day, a cup of stale titter that Diffuse my self worth in the corners. I eat berries and walnuts. Watching a ductile sunrise, Slapping fingers of orange rust on my hip. I see the magic growing. It is afternoon, I see thunder & stars simultaneously.… Continue reading A spotless space

W O R D S – A N D- L O V E

if my fingers break with the timeline of chiselled cheeks of lust for words of hunger for hunger if turquoise veins open up, longitudes of the fallen mind like the rupturing of seeds without a sound, a mindless game What it shall be called? the itch on my legs on my lips of words, a… Continue reading W O R D S – A N D- L O V E