8ofwolves-blog

[8ofwolves-blog]

[8ofwolves-blog]

i want to get past this fear and start living instead of leaving

[8ofwolves-blog]

nothing here but this aggressive silence

© Agnieszka Mauch

[8ofwolves-blog]

i will feed you both of my hands just be honest with your hunger

© Agnieszka Mauch

[8ofwolves-blog]

Photo taken inside a very old French cello from Napoleon III times. Credits: Adrian Borda

[8ofwolves-blog]

From Rudy Francisco’s book, HELIUM.

[8ofwolves-blog]

less bitterness, more detachment

[8ofwolves-blog]

through the intimate brush with an atomic bomb / i bloom with blisters / magic-up an ost for my non-routine / the revenant is psychotic and they lean over to touch my hair / i take a syringe to my throat / caldera crumbling / my land is split in two - my body is mine and yours and no one else can see it / they lean over to touch my eyes and / i scream i want knowledge because karma doesn’t exist / it doesn’t exist / karma is a scam a rope a slice of fear / what is there to believe in aside from my own calmness when it comes as a wave that is / also / a destroyer

© Agnieszka Mauch

[8ofwolves-blog]

i present a few girls to the sister-mother

pearl of death, a judge among owls

how can you not see them -

sobbing on the roadside, limbs torn by someone’s obsession?

i lay down with them

reciting light and dawn

into their bones

hopeful

it might kiss their blood dry

but it never does and never will

© Agnieszka Mauch

[8ofwolves-blog]

She is walking through the woods, alone. Her body burns.

Sirkka Selja, tr. by Anne Fried, from “Her Bliss Dwells on the Moon,” c. 1970 (via violentwavesofemotion)

[8ofwolves-blog]

i will feed you both of my hands just be honest with your hunger

© Agnieszka Mauch

[8ofwolves-blog]

nothing here but this aggressive silence

© Agnieszka Mauch

[8ofwolves-blog]

A hundred times ten have I descended the dark way that led into light, and as many times have I ascended from the darkness into the light my strength and power renewed.

from ‘The Emerald Tablets of Thoth’

[8ofwolves-blog]

what is this dangerously productive Sunday i am not used to vomiting so many words so easily

[8ofwolves-blog]

i am ripe with savage longing / focused like a knife’s tip / vulgar emptiness /a horror coiled inside the neck

© Agnieszka Mauch

[8ofwolves-blog]

i present a few girls to the sister-mother

pearl of death, a judge among owls

how can you not see them -

sobbing on the roadside, limbs torn by someone’s obsession?

i lay down with them

reciting light and dawn

into their bones

hopeful

it might kiss their blood dry

but it never does and never will

© Agnieszka Mauch

[8ofwolves-blog]

she wants to make herself herself

the herself the woods have told her about

the herself the wind has knocked against

      the icy slab of rejection

the herself that knows darkness and 

      is one with its movement

© Agnieszka Mauch