#temptation
Tried to write but the words won’t come,
tried to feel but I felt numb.
Tried to talk but no one would listen,
My own mind felt like a goddamn prison.
These dark thoughts keep haunting my head,
This emptiness making me wish if i was dead.
All I hear is my souls muffled screams,
echoing in my skull and in my dreams.
The Serpent, 1880, Max Klinger
I’m pretty sure we contribute to the whole vampyre myth…
We are dancing in the bleach kitchen
where all of our friends hold a beer and an apple.
You say, tell me about your room, your walls made
of ginger and calyx and I say, you are my door.
This isn’t my house. This map is winter’s comings:
stranger, pod, house of sugar. Let me trace our route for you.
Let me drive you there. The circle of my tongue sifting you
like flour. We are in the bleach kitchen where all our friends
hold an apple, so I ask, what color
is longing? and you answer, fling me. Here, I am handing
you a sketch. My eyes are greener than that.
Draw my reoccurrence. Smudge my knees.
We are kneeling for the white moon while California dries.
I have candied ginger on my lips.
There is nectar on the floor.
You wore that shirt because your eyes are sand.
Our sediment, my empty house, this waiting. Just press
your back against me. I am trying to sort you out.
You are running our limbs to the center. None of us are fish.
We are in the bleach kitchen where all our friends hold
a beer, and I sigh ocean blue
and you hum moon core. We are all just trying to be wordless.
I am opening my ribs. Slip your hand through.
Just be holy and spill through space.
There is a pie in the oven.
Our hearts are full of sea.
I am rooting myself on your walls.
We hunger for depth.
You count the sugar grains.
We are in the bleach kitchen and all our friends are drunk
and sinning, and you breath flour
and I moan sand phase. This is sand. This is water.
Mood
Make sure you live by the three T’s… ❤️