lovesickOf fevered sunsets daydreaming that we’ve never seen the sunrise. Sick of this miserable moon longing boys and broken hearts Sick to the brim of getting out of sorts when you put your dirty hands around my neck And now I see love as Procne, Tereus and Philomela not as [upstanding example] Sick of my parents’ love sometimes we all feel such as incommensurate matches Sick that I cant lo...
Desire, Little Deaths, Purified
Painting by Rachel Berkowitz Words by Gabriella Effie Forson
And so I spent the night turning rhymes whilst a habit grew and died the way things die on the side of a road or a mouth, and his mouth is thin the way words are, turning all the revolutionsand pulling apart a singlecircumstance into constituent partsof dirt under fingernails,expanding the tense of falling from the rolling months of corrections and Sundays-
Accepting Our Fate as Strangers
It was pouring.I should have seen the warning.For now my existence has been forgotten. And we have sunk to the bottom and become rotten.You blew me out like a candle.As you could not handle,My warm embrace full of grace,That you wanted to unlace and erase.Engraved in my mindIs a simple decline that put me behind.Affection with no directionIs not perfection. I have been swept to the back of your...
Some time ago, I started talking to this guy that I met at a function. He wasn’t from the area, and so we continued conversation and got to know one another from a distance. We texted every day, used Snapchat so we wouldn’t forget what the other looked like, and after a month of this, we leveled up to phone calls and Facetime. I remember the rush of relief I felt when I heard his voice again. ...