caviarkitty

[caviarkitty]

[caviarkitty]

you’re strong enough to run, but i

know all the places you could hide

my voice is strong - it bears a tune

a love you can’t try to refuse

and haunted you’ll go through life

and emptiness will follow blind

despite all efforts you will make

on cold late nights you’ll lay awake

and until it is me you seek

you’ll see yourself becoming meek

my fortune you will crave and want

then on your knees, reclaim your bond

so put the world before my feet

flowers and gold on altars meet

then rest your head over my thighs

and blessed’ll be, long as you’re mine

[caviarkitty]

French vintage postcard

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There’s a shoulder where death comes to cry

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We needed two stage partners For the scenes in both our lives. The plays produced were harder, Sewn with thread of love and lies.

Yours was a tale of misery That started with a war; The violence that made you flee Made comfort feel forlorn.

An odyssey started for thee, The return felt obliged But nay, not a coming that is meek: The victory’s implied.

Adrift at sea, you need the wind, The strength to charge ahead. But in the end, the storm’s a fiend Its intensity’s a treat.

You want the land, to anchor and To ground you from the tides To grasp and plant, your seed ascends, The richness of your pride.

And as for me, born by the sea, My tale takes no form. It isn’t marked by loss or grief; By longing I was torn.

Perfection was the only law Through which I saw the world. My pride was silent, though so tall My evil, tightened pearls.

Much like a rotten child, Spoiled by sugar and canes, I turned my face from all That wasn’t sweetness: ugly stains.

Vitality’s what made me seek The world beyond my shell, And love’s what shaped me In strength and softness charging through the hell.

’Tis guarded and protected, A shining amulet of luck. I know my greatest use is as A star for one’s direction The guide till fortune can be struck.

More different worlds could not collide, If not by God’s command. An apocalypse, though so sublime, Had such a bitter end.

And now we part, Still lone at heart, But I can say this still: You gave me chaos, flesh and blood I gave you windswept thrills.

[caviarkitty]

Hii! I saw your post about you thinking you might have been Olga in your past life, do you still beilive so if I may know?

I think my answer would be yes and no. If we were looking at it by the book, re-incarnation is not even something that aligns with my christianity, which very much so is a part of my identity… even so, I find it interesting, and for some reason I’ve always seen a lot of myself in Olga, and vice versa.

I loved looking at pictures of her. She always had a very stern expression, that seemed to simultaneously let both melancholy and a provocative wit transpire. Her reticence and extreme sincerity, as well as her detachment from reality in many ways are things I definitely see in myself as well.

I can’t say I have had a psychic experience, a vision, or anything like that… my grandma used to say I reminded her of her, but I think it’s only because she had read a description that her tutor had once written about Olga, which emphasizes her upturned nose (a trait of mine that was so dear to my grandma that she used to call me “narizinho”). she’s a historical figure that I’ve always had dear to me., for one reason or another. If I really were to be her reincarnation, I think I’d have inherited more of her charitable nature.

Overall, for as much as I’d love to say I was a tsarina in my past life, realistically, if there really is such a thing, it’s more likely that I was a cowboy in the wild west, living a life of solitude and quiet wisdom in the late 1800s.

[caviarkitty]

Now that I finally have access to my kitchen again, I really want to try out some recipes... If you have favourite dishes to cook and eat, leave them here! I desperately need new ideas

[caviarkitty]

I watch myself transform into something I can’t quite place

My womanhood was dormant though I urged it to awake

But now a touch is just enough to moisten dried up lands

A flood rejuvenates my skin, spring will at last commence

At first I felt tranquility, the grounding of my mind

All thoughts that were chaotic seemed quite quickly to subside

It was the cloudy turbulence to at last dissipate

The storm of spirit’s over, now the sun will heat and bathe

A blooming of my bosom marked the start of what’s to come

My skin, once dry and tense became supple and rich with love

I close my eyes and see the child inside me fade away

And tremble as the growth occurs, my flesh becomes your clay

The forms that once existed in fantasies of your mind

Translate onto my body with your grip ever so tight

And instruments that I could only to to use to roam around

Became your moving property, to open, play and hound

I anticipate my own becoming of less utility

The shapes that I’m composed serve of no purpose for me

For what’s the use of organs that live under my skin

I know my waist has found its place when your clasp keeps it within

Your poetry makes real to me what human form should mean

It should not be a selfish, individual, lone, machine

A body serves its purpose when it can be thrown around

And truly be consumed by the man to which I’m bound.

[caviarkitty]

You’re a man of the mountains, I was born by the sea

Between heaven and earth lies the hope of our plea

The matter of two souls meant nothing to no one

But my flesh is like yours when the business is done

I could never have guessed, could never have foreseen

How my prayers for you’d render me so serene

‘Cause despite of our distant and opposing homelands

I would hold you through life till it broke both my hands

My past is still failing and my future’s too long

I need you, by my side, in the present alone!

Haunting myths of my figure never could translate

To your culture, your language, and still you never forbade

If you killed me then go, follow your path of lies!

I will follow in white, till the other one dies!

But it’s not mere disturbance that I long to evoke

For even as a phantom, you need me to cope!

[caviarkitty]

Frankly speaking

I don't want to have you for a program

And be just any other in your bed

For one single night and nothing else

Frankly speaking

Between the two of us there should be more feeling

I don't want your love for a mere moment

And have the rest of my life to regret

[caviarkitty]

Love has been the driving force for any length I’ve ran

But fantasy still seems to be a stronger sturdy land

I wonder why does sacrifice come easy for all that’s not

Mirages and disguises give a great strength to the heart

But in the end you eat the fruits of seeds that you have sown 

And misbelief has nothing real to give - no plant has grown

You reap and wait, stay up till late, devotion bleeds soft hands 

But famine comes and hunger leaves no joy to make amends

The worst is not the weakness, nor the growling of your insides

Famished hunger’s human, it’s the working of our minds

But when the table’s set, and the plates empty, undone

The coldness of the glass seems twice as harsh, and I, twice as alone

[caviarkitty]

Looking at the mirror, listening to Piero Piccioni's mexican dream, swooning, sighing

[caviarkitty]

Helmut Lang “Handcuff” bracelet (version)

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Patricia Altschul, my muse

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Every poem I've written for you is a spell and a prayer. I hope you find comfort in that.

[caviarkitty]

When I asked God to give me a romance like those you read in classic 19th century classics, I meant something out of Jane Austen's books not Emily Bronte's