A Deer In Nara| Samira I.

Let everything happen to you Beauty and terror Just keep going No feeling is final

My dear, Find what you love and let it kill you. Let it drain you of your all. Let it cling onto your back and weigh you down into eventual nothingness. Let it kill you and let it devour your remains. For all things will kill you, both slowly and fastly, but it’s much better to be killed by a lover.

"Sometimes I can hear my bones straining under the weight of all the lives I'm not living.

I ate it all; plastic, diamonds and sugar-coated arsenic as we danced in honey and sea-salt sprinkled laxative. Coral blossomed portraits in Rembrandt light; cheekbones high and fashionable. Snap! goes the moment; a photograph is time travel, like the light of dead stars painting us with their warm, titanic blood. Parasitic kaleidoscopes and psychotropic glow worms stop me dead in my tracks. Aphids sucking the red off a rose, but for beauty I will gladly feed my life into the mouths of rainbows; their technicolor teeth cutting prisms and smiling benevolently on the pallid hue of the working class hero.

“What is a poet? An unhappy man who hides deep anguish in his heart, but whose lips are so formed that when the sigh and cry pass through them,it sounds like lovely music…and people flock around the poet and say "sing gain soon”-that is, ‘my new sufferings torment your soul but your lips be fashioned as before, for the cry would only frighten us,but the music, that is blissful

this is my letter to the world, that never wrote to me.