archives.2024

28 decembre 2024

between the kitchen and the bed,
my movements’ range is retained like toes on frozen tiles.
i’m a patient woman…
i'll laugh from afar
seeing how easy it was to burn the walls -
how i handled things so unwell
for i have been too polite

6 decembre 2024

a strand of my hair,
what appears charming
from what i heard.
she was crafted, eyelashes made the blackest;
claws out, sharpened,
to cut velvet to make you love velvet, to leave a trace.
she used to feel like a living dress,
a commotion of skin and linen,
a weak looking blue - i’m a viscous body;
a clam - with its misspent youth.
she was my shell, to soak in salty juices.
when my lovers kissed me
they thought they loved me and i thought that too
but they made love to a shape that was mine,
without really being here tangled with them.
if one must count her victories there must be plenty,
or in my eyes, none.
i was grateful when she died -
i happen to prefer red,
vivid, with hints of raspberry.
i’ll be wearing lipstick like a safety net to pay homage,
to show the teeth i’m starting to like

5 decembre 2024

a contract of time no one can disrupt
signed with the sap of a dying bush.
pale is the grass
covered by morning frost,
dark are the leaves
when they’re lucky enough.
and there’s a few nuances of red
deep, raging,
bleeding on angels’ wings.
between two purgatories,
the last flower of the year is discreet.
quiet in the evening,
flaming in the dew;
the sentinel of a life that lingers
closer than expected

20 novembre 2024

i'm being domesticated,
each day a little more;
whilst my favorite flowers are the ones that die
when you put them in a vase.
at least my roses never tried
to stab any skin whatsoever.
but they didn't try to deflate
my sluggish gut either : (

25 septembre 2024

she seems naïve, all delicate.
apparent bones and hidden tricks;
a part-time spy in disguise,
who could crawls under your bed.
she seems so brittle and belittled
next to the monumental laws
she’s answering to.
but mind this woman for she has
a fetish for switching faces.
last night she cut herself bangs
to pair with boots she never wears.
you should be warned that
a girl who feels no remorse
facing inches matter on the floor,
is a woman you’ll never know
in the flesh, through the gems of her past

9 aout 2024

i already know the mountain tops
are trusting cold beds for memories,
silken coffins safe from a burning heart,
a place to preserve our prayers until next time.
i wanna burry my feet into the sand,
to get the nicest tan until my skin
be burnt enough to defy winter’s return

20 juillet 2024

of course it’s a phase,
it’s the 68th and it will
not be the last. it’s always a phase,
always important; it’s all about
phases that matter and will vanish later

12 juin 2024

sheets are clean, hair untangled,
food's organic
and the kitchen immaculate.
it’s peaceful and terribly quiet :
not a single step aside,
not a single risky move outside.
at least you’re sober now,
you can tell by the amount of water you sip
through the day; you swam all summer
and never been this tanned. you're carrying
fewer stories along the years. truth is,
water slides down your body now -
your past might appear strangely wave-free.
pieces of your skin float outside somewhere; unsigned
as you keep on swallowing every memory that could resurface.
you're not getting any nutrients from it;
but you’re so keen to make the most of a meal

13 mars 2024

solely the needed seeds
will prevail to erect a field.
i was born during a summer storm, aiming
for a revenge september yearly brings.
harder the thunderbolts,
stronger the buds to come