July 2011
2 posts
2 tags
3 tags
June 2011
1 post
6 tags
March 2011
1 post
all animals are created equal.
September 2009
1 post
http://sangrmahlia.tumblr.com →
February 2009
13 posts
.
this will mark the end of my journey;
for the next time i speak, you will be there.
the anatomy of unfaith
my diaphragm dome
rises and depletes according to your lies
my ribcage sliding
open and close
open and close
fast and imploding when i feel your diamond
muscles contracting
and my diamond muscles will contract, too
and again
you steal my inner walls’ pretentiousness
how i’d love to hate you,
but my bones say no.
“suspicion amongst thoughts are like bats amongst birds; they ever fly by...”
– francis bacon, of suspicion.
on my leather-bind book
hello, danger. you are my dying fire. flame that bursts out of my pretentious apocalypse and bangs my inner walls until i can’t see trough the smoke anymore.
just beyond that gray smoke, it’s you.
i close my eyes and they're here. i can feel them...
you don’t know how crowded it is in my head,
even now they are holding me with their limbs.
this is not of religion nor morality
but why is it wrong for me to identify myself not with my clothings and my shelter but with my nipples and vagina, when i was born with them and them only, as was my mother, as was my ancestress, as will my daughter, as will my granddaughters, as were all women before me, and will all women after me?
on genitalias
you spoke this so beautifully,
“i want to kiss your cunt
so i could speak in the language of your orgasm
and think in the wisdom of your heart.”
because you believed we were bonded by love and comings,
and so maybe, maybe.
maybe i should spare myself a naivety.
“why is it, my dear, that male genitalia symbolizes great power and female...”
shooga-san,
i will stand up for you. until the labour ends and we turn into ashes,
i will stand up for you.
while i'm sleeping
i’ll remember you
walking into my dreams
you and my immense fear of the world.
keep the wind from blowing me out.
January 2009
14 posts
the silence is deafening
golden. golden like the colour of the sun rays penetrating from the spaces between your hair strands. golden like the leaf falling from beneath where the sun light crosses the room, trough the window, into the gold-coloured wooden floor. golden was your warmth. on your belly. around your neck. i breathed into your lungs and i saw the colour golden.
this silence, it’s breaking my tongue....
dear danger
burn my exceeding fear
over your danger and mine
and release me as i climb
the damp air with the ascending smoke.
of fire and miles away
my dear fire,
are you burning over there?
i cannot see you,
but i remember lighting you.
a long while ago
when the sun was still golden,
and the mark of your flesh
was still a burning imprint on my bed.
my cherokee,
you are space and time away
but i can feel your heat
on the palms of my burning hands.
cherokee mist by jimi hendrix
i’ll...
you.
what’s going on up there?
inside your head,
bursting out
with the hair down to your shoulders
like an explosion of crazy thoughts?
film is not dead it just smells funny →
search me and destroy me
we’re love in the middle of a fire fight. two nuclear bombs fucking each other and fucking us over.
you have a tumor on your lips
in the morning when the sun ray arouses my wisdom i wake from my dreams of our religion and blue praises i take a graphite block and paint you the valleys and the hills i pretend my hands were gray’s and cut my fingerbeds with paper because i want to slice your kiss open and cure the tumor on your lips