velvet-spells-blog

[velvet-spells-blog]

I will not break you on the land

I will not break you on the land

there is only one place my hands will find their way around your throat, hard enough to leave marks but not enough to bruise.

There is only one place that my teeth will sink into fermented flesh, tearing your apart from the outside,

just a taste of how much you've destroyed me.

I will not hit you when I see you.

Instead I will wait until our skin is melting together and my name is rushing past your lips in that way that it only does when prompted with pleasure.

There is only one place that my fist will find your cheek as I cry out for redemption (or some other useless phrase).

I will scratch at your spine until you stain the sheets with salt and pigment and I will break your bones from the inside out until you're nothing underneath me.

When it's over and you're puddled around me, taunting me, revealing what I've done, I will swear to love you forever.

But I will not love you in bed. 

[velvet-spells-blog]

[velvet-spells-blog]

In places within fountains Water: white and black discharges from the ears of little children--green with not knowing what they've decided. They speak with reason: I don't understand them.

[velvet-spells-blog]

[velvet-spells-blog]

Pleasure: To bleed serums while wading through water. All between its dream-trances, I don't care or lust for time. Shadows of melancholia encapsulate an old man staring pensively through glass while rolling up his blue sleeves--with anxious movements that reverberate in a squalid kitchen. These fields of monotony kiss your nostrils; a subsequent paralysis. Strawberry woods must subside. Translations of retrogression resuscitate within a smoke love. The corner of habitually convoluted roots cause affection and amalgams of aphasia. 

[velvet-spells-blog]

Patterns I See on the Insides of my Eyelids

[velvet-spells-blog]

There are needles in the bedsheets To which deep breaths are impervious.  The shadows elope on winter's breath. Soft anxiousness reprieves itself. Pants collapse onto the floor,  From the pockets--coins spill out. Lost diamond-dandelion (sun trickles Into a pocket) feels the oncoming cover. Points converge on you. Tell all. 

[velvet-spells-blog]

[velvet-spells-blog]

Film Canister with Words: (A Supermarket Dream)

I stand in a bottomless clock That isn't me, As it never senses the mid-summer Washed in boulevard fires; or a Color being anywhere you drown.

I can't remember the still, silk town In love you watch terribly Lest I burnout in it--a million years. Helicopters near spray-painted fields  Tell us all why we wont make it Anymore.

I don't think anymore, Rock-swells fit in before We can fuck and degrade A Seventh-inning party.

I'll be anyone who Stands in a bottomless clock That isn't me-- As it never senses the mid-summer Washed in boulevard fires; or a Color being anywhere you drown.  

[velvet-spells-blog]

[velvet-spells-blog]

When someone asks me what my favorite Movie or book or song or anything is, Inevitably, I forget. I panic. I pick something else. I should keep lists and carry them everywhere. When someone asks me what my favorite Movie or book or song or anything is, I'd like to say, this one, this one right here-- This one I saw two nights ago, alone in my room at five in the morning; This one I finished three weeks ago sitting in a tall, black chair at the library; This one I listened to four times before deciding To keep a list of my favorite things.