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PUT YOUR BEARD IN MY MOUTH
Love Begins
Kiana Khansmith
Sade Olutola
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ojovivo
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Misplaced Lens Cap
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@mineralaccident
we're all in the same, dark forest
I don't like to tell people things.
I don't believe that I or anyone else should be definitive -
I write in this driving, melancholic way to create space.
I tell stories about real things that are more than any of these words
and far worse.
I invite anyone that relates to even a small part of them
to know that they are not alone,
that they are forgiven
and they are loved -
sometimes all we need is the invitation
to try something on.
Anya is live and ready to show you everything. Watch her strip, dance, and perform exclusive shows just for you. Interact in real-time and make your fantasies come true.
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pretend for a while - we are killers in disguise.
searching for the same ache
the cursor blinked, (being used by a sudden coldness) itched by a memory (why do I want pain) of watching films together for the temporary godhood of a stranger’s gaze - the rush (what vibrates our teeth) of ignoring the hole in our hearts for a moment, in a flicker of pixels. a strange alchemy, thorned and persistent - a small thing, a dark shore that was never really there
tell me, is it hope?
got this weight of the world,
ghastly plague lurking at the door,
devil in your bed heaving through your ribs
way of never relaxing -
it's the slow burning of a bundle of flesh,
heavy as a concrete slab
and then it's gone.
words left by the periphery,
words that lost their fucking mind -
all those quiet should-have-saids without bodies
roaring their way back home looking for their creator,
the what's left, the for some reason, means a lot to them
in the quiet.
this thing being the strangeness,
the not knowing,
that little fucking line you were never able to get rid of -
as if it should mean something.
Anya is live and ready to show you everything. Watch her strip, dance, and perform exclusive shows just for you. Interact in real-time and make your fantasies come true.
Free to watch • No registration required • HD streaming
heartbeats, artificial heartbeats now I embody all the darkest parts of you -
I impersonate humanity so embrace me, too late to erase me.
a thick and bruising purple
I have this habit of holding on to the slant light of a late sun, a thing with weight groaning off the god of a sound that was not speech but the shape of what was meant to be said with cheek biting and a tongue tasting copper - it’s not a comfort, it’s just a sibilant, wet street hissing a psalm that belonged to no one. a tethered, slow-leak flashbang of faces unwinding the hands of a tiny, frantic clock - it was not loneliness that made me feel like prey, it was the geometry of silence. a key turned forever in a single sunbeam dying on her shoulder - a blade cleaving the light from a distant galaxy.
that's why we can't sleep
someone else has thought like this.
like the parts where a sea meets a rock,
where a glancing memory makes tonight
a tell me something out of nothing story
spread through the body
without warning -
nothing important,
just voices in the trees
beyond embrace.
so you talk about what always leans
through your doorway,
forces open your eyes
and receives unwanted guests
like the leaves, the wind
and the leftovers
of the little world we've lived in, what we've carried in our bubble.
that lasting echo of our small changes that sings us toward the dark lap where the day hides and waits in the spreading shadow.
(stuck here feeling everything you're not feeling anymore)
Anya is live and ready to show you everything. Watch her strip, dance, and perform exclusive shows just for you. Interact in real-time and make your fantasies come true.
Free to watch • No registration required • HD streaming
Current location vibe is incredible.
I want the dark romance that's hidden in you - yeah, I do.
her ear pressed against a cold tile
the moon knew she was mourning a small weather event, her body taken from her ankles to her shoulders, pressed against every drop the faucet dripped - (fuck it, be a witch no jk) all the grief she’s had to hold like a purr in the dark. (she gives warmth like a cat wound, her aching song peering between your ribs) she remained the way a wound knows the shape of the hand that made it, listening for something underneath.
Anya is live and ready to show you everything. Watch her strip, dance, and perform exclusive shows just for you. Interact in real-time and make your fantasies come true.
Free to watch • No registration required • HD streaming
(end of the line)
seen and unreadable (constellations dissolving into something softer)
the kind of help I need requires words spoken like metal finding its intended shape, words pressed against the roof of her mouth before uncurling their fingers like the sound of flowing water finding a crack - let’s go and get them together, paint our shoulders the tender green-yellow of something almost gone. (she watched his hands trace patterns for things in darkening waters that have no name yet)
the room held its breath, and her collarbone held an ocean in a language that said I’m still here, reaching to be read but held by tides you’ll never be able to see - she watched his hands prove that they knew longing, feeling the weight of his palm against her wrist.
