blood moon

The moon is red tonight, my love, red and smelling like dying roses, like the roots of dreams crushed by the falling of dawn, by the weight of light upon our blue eyelids. The moon is red like the paths of wine flowing flooding splendiferous the screams beneath our conscience. Red like the sweat dripping … Continue reading

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“Cream of wordflakes” – free for reading

About Cream of Wordflakes: – to be served with a mint leaf and/or cinnamon sifted on top – Sounds sweet, doesn’t it? Well, believe me, it’s not. Or not always. Because not all words are always sweet, and because we don’t need only sweetness on this world. There are other tastes too, that require our … Continue reading

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In the field of bloody noons

So red is the sunlight beyond the shut eyelids, So raw and cruel and dripping drops of need Constricting dreams sliding slowly round and round Menacing Hissing Tango with sunlight Forced red and cellos teasing in the background Mmmmmmmmmmmm Sssoooo sssswifffft… HUSH! Piano keys marking my skin with rhythm and Joy and dementia And suddenly … Continue reading

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cast-a-compass day

Whiskers of kittens on morning’s face, the sun wearing cloud glasses – me too darn shiny for it, giggles a cherry tree. A horse pulled chariot rolls over the dog’s dreams, which reminds me that I have forgotten mine… floors need sweeping, windows need wiping, dust must die – or at least emigrate outside the … Continue reading

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rope dancing

[…] a thin line separates the whitish ceiling from the light blue wall in front of me, allowing my thoughts to walk on it as if along a knife’s metallic edge while trying to not fall in any of the two shallow unicoloured worlds fringing that path that leads towards the unreality of my ramblin’ … Continue reading

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teenaging

One more time my hands run wild all over the keyboard, eager to just chain words to the blank page and feed on them, to feed on their meanings like a predator, to feel their juice running down on my chin without caring that my mouth is smeared with crushed particles of language, while listening … Continue reading

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online paranthesis

Seattle Silk you say and I wish I sipped it from your cup, midnightish and strong and filled with your sweet ramblings on how you hate what others say and how you wished I was there…     wooden baby bed waiting for my nape to release the pressure on it and plug the laptop’s … Continue reading

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speculum

i was looking at her… is this how it works, mirror-mirror on the wall? you add a few more pixels to the reflection and say that’s better than the most snow-whitish legend of them all? because, you know, i was looking at her… how does someone so beautiful become suddenly so ugly?! what turns the … Continue reading

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