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Origami No. 8 - The Fringe

July 13, 2021

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He fucked me and I understood why Lana Del Rey sings they way she does.

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Saint Vingt Sept - No. 07 - A day at the Museum

I have an affinity for boys who stand like museums. I like the long standing history that lies behind renovated walls and new attractions. Walking in with wonder, I am more inclined to listen to the older gentleman muttering to himself in the background. The young and motivated guide, bless his heart, doesn't have the information I am looking for. He lacks a poetic approach and; broken and experiential approach. 32 heartbeats a second time around. The dust lifts from the lesser read books And the abandoned questions. The crease on your forehead unveils the lack of connoisseurs in your life. You're plagued with tourists who come to see the inside and leave. You've never seen the girl who breaks her trip in four, then three, then two, then adds one more week. You're so used to people taking pictures Never people putting the chairs back where they found them. Leaving litter beneath the seats. Leaving bruises of amusement to mark the points when they weren't l

Kintsukuroi No. 07 - Suicidal Pigeons

we're descending once again. a thrashing of the understanding. we have been here before however they still treat us like a guest an apostolic view on the outcome i am in awe of how i can still surprise myself. there is a vacancy for the undoing of my approach yet still, i choose to utter feeble attempts at living. yes, i am aware that possibly, i am not okay but still, i hope for a better outcome. silencing the trees i have found it easier to look up and down vs. sideways fuck it, i need to be honest don't i?

Kintsukuroi No.06 - The Simple Earthquake

So..... I am standing in the queue Hoping the lady scanning the groceries is in a good mood. She's tapping her foot against the hem of her chair so she must be. I imagine she's tired. Tired of the self absorbed and persistent existence of people coming by. She is without a doubt a tired woman. Her hands automatic, her smile...not so much But she's trying. Laundry on the line. God I hope it doesn't rain. Lease on the line. God I hope it doesn't stain. Pain in her right shoulder. God make it go away. But it doesn't. Like that spot on the right sofa cushion. She's just not comfortable with the fact that its there. He is standing behind me. Heaving. Not sure why he is agitated but its making me agitated. It actually making me angry. The fringe of his loaf of brown un-sliced bread Grazes the back of my elbow and I can't help but be offended. So rustle up a tornado of hate in my throat. The anger gashing silently beneath my tongue. Next custome

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Origami No. 8 - The Fringe

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