seen from Germany
seen from Greece
seen from United Kingdom
seen from Argentina
seen from Türkiye
seen from United States
seen from United States
seen from United States
seen from Poland
seen from United States
seen from United States
seen from Morocco
seen from Yemen
seen from United States
seen from United States
seen from United States
seen from Kazakhstan
seen from France
seen from Greece
seen from United States
in search of a better heaven,
behold the flavor of
my heart.
baptize it with tears
bathe it with dove
a girl caught
by the mosaic of love.
i feel it bristling in me
the silt of this city
the grime of erotes
in my mouth:
if i must be soft like
an angel’s wing,
give me the fire
of the angel’s sword.
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december is an evergrowing list of contradictory ideas because i have written three poems about her & none of them align perfectly. december is for words, i think, because i have never been so sad in my life and the history books tell me sadness = art so it must be true, yeah? i have written three poems about december but really her name is just a disguise (masking tape badly slapped over a word, scratches of heartblood over ink & skin) for the girl i am trying to not write poems about. i think i am running out of words. i think i am running out. (i think i am running. what i am running from?)
// sadness =/= art | e.k.
sunset seance // by emma rose
AWAKE // nori sickels
Love was born on the night before the frost settled over new york city. It was the fog that coated the rosy pink of the sky a hazy, damp blue. whisking away the subtle promise of a spring fling from the more young, impressionable, girls. It was a squealing child, a scar of countless hands that pledged mended hearts to bleeding souls. before landing on dewy grass, crying to the teenage jealousy. and flying off, to start again.
love in new york (j.d)
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another interpretation of dirt god, by adam b. || j.r {omg i hope you don’t mind!)
how do you make a monster out of a human? you shove blood under skin, and teach it to claw itself apart. how do you make a human out of a monster? you fill it up with mortal organs and give it a beating heart. — all monsters start off as humans. i am still learning this.
'texts between the paintings and the eyes' series // "the end of all things", maximilian pirner x "feral ave marias", l.e.e.
