nocturnal-poets
~ s k e l l e
: skelle/ bone dry theory & fairytale.
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nice things will happen but first you have to lose all hope and die 45 times
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okay, not having a cigarette is actually sexier and more tragic than having the cigarette
source: contrapoints et al, Twilight (2024), 37:24
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I always thought
I was too much. But maybe
I’m not enough of a slut
For the things I love
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Jean Vincent Simonet for Novembre Magazine
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Spit Stones pt. 1
I’m waiting on him to eat me whole
So I can hide in the place burrowed deep inside his chest
I’m saving myself so he will heat me cold
Spit stones
Sound in the place where light will not grow
Whole fruit
There is no light, without you
There is no light.
I come out Alone.
Sound in the space
Light will not go
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the circle
I’m living for the circle
you put me in.
For the timelines in which you don’t
easily forget.
My stomach churns with a disability.
My tongue holds great joy, and a deep grief wrapping around itself: the Caduceus, in brief.
Lost fatigue.
Eternal life brings eternal health, immortal wealth, a maternal hell. the mother’s earth womb turns into, and later exposed an open wound burnt softly singed expecting to be filled again. The horror when you say no; I will not return towards it. I saved myself for this moment. Alone. U & i
I’m living for the circle again.
In Time.
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After the flood, there wasn’t much left for us to do. But rebuild, rejoin, and regroup.
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Leave Me Alone
i’m trying create home out of a pile of sticks and
a microdome of bone.
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Life-giver
Open your knees
And tell me your needs
The things that need me
The ones that you feed
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