Saturday, 11 June 2011


I can feel you approaching in my bosom, your radiance warming my fingers, my throat, my eyes. Before you, all I had was the cold light of morning, a winter of discontent. I feel you coming. Is it me that you want, or are you just passing by? I pray that you aren’t brief, like everyone else in my life. You enter through my bedroom window like a summer breeze and fill my world.

Your smooth, fat fists close over my heart and lungs, ocean smoothed rocks hurled at a ship's hull. I will never drown, you can never destroy me.

Je ne sais pas qui je suis. Je veux etre vous.

I will wade out til my thighs are steeped in burning flowers. I will take the sun in my mouth and leap into the ripe air. Alive with closed eyes to dash against the darkness. In the sleeping curves of my body, I enter fingers of smooth mastery. With the chastity of loneliness, I will discover the mystery of my flesh.

I have become heavy with child.

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