It’s easy enough to do it with a smile A haughty laughter that sickens you but makes their faces glimmer Produces peachy cheeks radiant with rose color tints floral shades They convulse from their bellies No matter how much your eyes beg for alleviation
I was molded out of clay You spread your hands across me effacing me Smearing Sculpting You have made every past deed in my life your own Carved your fingers against a three dimensional object Formed our very own Big Bang Copernicus systems meeting up where…
It has happened once a year every twelve years Stoic years that have defined the meaning of my anguish I had tried to talk to you Stretch through the prickled dots that cloud my sky just to try to spread into yours but my movements they were…
I was made up what artists dream of He once told me His fingers slid delicately along my own as if he was the one who sculpted me himself No bumps no cracks marring my skin It’s just me what he has made me Not hiding his…
How old am I and no one ever thought to bring me flowers? Not until you came along, you were the only flower I needed. A dwindle of shrubs, rough patches marring the earth scarring it with sandpaper meadows. Barley peeled back to show you what I kept hidden inside, what I was made…
She was nothing sweet like Bergamasque Could’ve had bits of Mozart in her sprinkles of Requiems yet she didn’t do it for the dead She did it for the ones who couldn’t stand her essence yet craved her memory A solemn treaty of sentiment Words that could never…
“Tell them that you weren't hungry, tell them you followed the pomegranates seeds because they tasted like blood, like love.” -Pauline Albanese You had the taste of lust written across your lips it was there etched into your eyes Pomegranate shaped orbs that made me crave to pick that seed up and…
This city is beautiful at night with the light of the moon bustling down below on you Yet being so close to the clouds one can’t feel any of it The people are so small taking their bags in tenfold like little ants are those specs of dust The nightlights…
Éloa 