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Literature Text
I live as a rind
orange, imaginary
sugar perplexed hypothetical skin
crackled and cackling at the loss
of others;
frostful and lacking reality
of sun
I know no other hemming but these
indentations, (intendations)
slowly swept hair, by finger and thumb
proudly peacocked, withered soul
strutted
on metered spacebar,
with abundance of letters per word
misremembered, represented
in tiny pictures of emotion
and haw, moon rounding
into shudderform; first I saw you possible
floating in mi(d)st, out-of-place December
breath fogging up glass
tongue frozen in the go, and still
an idea of no purchase
slowly crept along, by finger and thumb
to an endpoint far between two outcomes:
one look ought to be enough, but isn't
the shrill voice rises
piercing the heart coldly, calculated
orange, imaginary
sugar perplexed hypothetical skin
crackled and cackling at the loss
of others;
frostful and lacking reality
of sun
I know no other hemming but these
indentations, (
slowly swept hair, by finger and thumb
proudly peacocked, withered soul
strutted
on metered spacebar,
with abundance of letters per word
misremembered, represented
in tiny pictures of emotion
and haw, moon rounding
into shudderform; first I saw you possible
floating in mi(d)st, out-of-place December
breath fogging up glass
tongue frozen in the go, and still
an idea of no purchase
slowly crept along, by finger and thumb
to an endpoint far between two outcomes:
one look ought to be enough, but isn't
the shrill voice rises
piercing the heart coldly, calculated
Literature
consecrate
authenticity an arsenic
in morning coffee, in the smiles
pressed like ironed laundry,
because I feel like one wrong breath,
one wrong kiss between glossed lips and soft jaws
and I will be nailed to a cross
deception a shame rising like steam,
where teeth grind against each other
like clockwork gears, tick tick ticking
while the tongue kisses the roof of its cathedral
like a prayer to gods yet to be named
because her face is a mosaic window
shining the sin out of love
Literature
Reykjavik For Lezayre
so slip, i stumble. fumble with the
doorknob and your key falls with me
im falling into - there you are
i see you in
these ports and the sea foam shades
of the fog that parts at dawn the day
before i find myself - here you are
i want to be left alone but -
it was the taste, salty and too sweet
it was too much and my tongue
is not appeasing or the tricks
that tease -
come close. still this one last time
there’s something underneath your
skin steady i want
inside
you - to see, how i memorize you
in every gasp that splits the air around
us and when you cum - crashing
Literature
Split
Run nails down my
arm; I won't let you under
my skin anymore
Suggested Collections
In which I try to understand, but admittedly not very hard
© 2016 - 2024 nawkaman
Comments3
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but there's underlying feel of slime, like a morally used car salesman or ambulance chasing attorney...
there is no understanding, really. I grew up there. I have learned to accept but not understand
still, there is no malice, only stupidity and hidden greed
there is no understanding, really. I grew up there. I have learned to accept but not understand
still, there is no malice, only stupidity and hidden greed