seen from Australia
seen from T1
seen from United Kingdom
seen from Portugal
seen from Sweden
seen from China
seen from New Zealand
seen from China
seen from India
seen from India
seen from India
seen from Italy
seen from Russia
seen from Brazil
seen from Georgia
seen from France
seen from Japan
seen from Canada
seen from Denmark
seen from Malaysia
already, at the mere thought of it i can taste tears in my spit, can feel rasping grief buzz beneath my nose
why am i so hung up about it?
it happened so long ago already, and i thought it would settle by now—the bitterness and the rage, the betrayal and the hurt
the tender urge in my hands to
kill, kill, kill
but i am still here in my bedroom illuminated beneath yellow light i am still here without an apology i am still here, seething
— the feeling doesn't go away
OH, TO FOLLOW HER TO THE SEA
in retrospect, i was probably in love with her. i mean, i fall in love with everyone i meet; every passing stranger who takes the time to smile back at me.
but it was strange. we were sharing beds in paris and london, giggling over accents and dogs in edinburgh. and that sunset? on the hill? everything cast in a soft glow, the old buildings receding into the night. i could have kissed her then, but i didn’t.
in retrospect, she probably didn’t even like me back anyway. & it’s all different now. there’s no time. too many papers, and full time relationships. the inevitable move across the country. what could have been never was, and where does that leave us now?
why do i feel this deep emptiness, this clawing regret, when i think of her, by the sea, out of reach, oh, the longing to drop everything, to mold and warp my dreams so they align with hers, so there’s no other choice but to forget it all and follow her.
“will he wake up soon?” mama asked.
GREAT WHITES
they will try again and again to stuff a great white in a fish tank, to snag and capture it from the open water oh yes, they will relish in its violence, relish as its pinprick eyes flash with struggle
and they will put a great white behind glass, walls and walls of it, and they will expect it to snap, to kill, to thrive, but instead for three hollow days, it will hang suspended in the fake ocean water and ignore its prey
they will jeer at it, get a rise out of it their children will shout, where’s the beast? at a big white too big for this place, and in its anger at being contained, it will ram into the glass and bear the pain
and they will find its body the next morning all glassy-eyed and open-mawed—delicate even in death, and they will all be saddened by the fact that they could not keep a great white in captivity, but this will not be the last time
no, this will not be the last time that they force a great white into a cage
— prompt: aquarium
BAPTISM
i would loved to be baptized again in the waters of my choosing—let faith wash over me and cool down my heretical heart, let it sizzle and turn to ash. i would drink in God and remember what it was like being told that i was loved for living, even if in sin.
the dark blue woods whisper its sweet primordial hymn that the wind will carry no swifter than earth shifts to moonlit dim
and as beasts stalk through the midnight crushing bone between their jaws let song weave through weary spite and dream peace before the First Cause
how gentle did the grass sway how silent were the rivers before old blood did we betray and punishment did God deliver
BEFORE THE FALL amorette || @theheadofcordula
1am bleary-eyed thoughts.
do you ever wonder how you’re going to die? he asked me this as we drove down the interstate, highway cement rushing up to meet the tires and disappearing beneath us. i didn’t want to have this conversation again. not here, when a slight jerk of the wheel could send us to our holy obliteration. pieces of us spread across the 401 like the grotesque confetti of a party that never began. no, i told him, not really. i eyed the rising speedometer glowing on the dashboard of this car that he bought only two days ago. ceremoniously ditching the old one for these greater speeds, for the drone in our ears as our brains tried to comprehend that impossible movement. he continued: like, is it gonna be something boring, like a stroke or some shit, or is it going to be something epic, like murder? the high-beams from an oncoming car illuminated the space between us. a chasm growing bigger as he sank deeper and deeper into his fantasies. he wasn’t asking for my thoughts, only voicing his own. so i kept quiet. i felt squirmy, in the way i tend to when faced head-on with the fragility of my own existence. this time, however, he seemed to be waiting for an answer. his gaze flitted dangerously over to me, slouched in the passenger’s seat. i don’t know, i shrugged. i just hope it’s not while in a hospital bed, hooked up to a bunch of machines. he laughed like this was the most amusing thing i’d ever said. maybe it was. exactly. his foot grew heavier on the gas. the car hummed its approval, the speedometer growing to dizzying digits. i always told you i was gonna die before i reached thirty.
