Tag Archives: hole

82. once in a million words

to know fear is to have never tasted it, that bitter acrid taste of rotting apples mixed with strong perfume. there is no knowing, only inhalation and dizziness before the lights go on. then, fear subsides.
the aftertaste remains. cologne is rotting. rotting all the same.

and swallowing the cider bile i stop. and start. i stop and start. and i remember that this was rhythm beaten out for me and Y. aeons ago, i would have told him this was our rhythm, that it was made for us. really, the rhythm is mine alone.
it is the heartbeat of a rabbit caught running in circles, breaking out of a different hole every time. only i have no space of time and who knows if i’m late?
there is no knowing here, only white roses being painted red. but i need no paint, truth always comes out in the end.

and this fear reigns over love. it transcends the borders of us and reproduces in our creations. why is that, will you tell me?
it must be us, the charcoal darkening the paper.
it must be orange juice spilt on a linen cloth. or coffee. coffee on those tiles.

still, it’s so nice to be able taste fear once in a million words, wouldn’t you say?

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to love a woman

what is it like to love a woman
with tears like early morning rain
whose liquid sunshine, burning passion,
reminds you of the way you,
summers past, years ago,
magnifying glass in hand,
burnt a hole in drying grass?

 what it is like to love a woman
whose eyes break open the glass ceiling
just like they shatter every man,
whilst rinsing fear into your blood;
that which never quite fumbles for your heart
but manages to stop it still?

 too benevolent to kill

 what it is like to love a woman
whose humid breath
warms to the core of every cell
until you think you know her well 

what is it like to love a woman
for whom love flows like molten ice?