mctal-dev

[mctal-dev]

hybrid (future child)

(ione meraki 2025)

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Berlinde De Bruyckere

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Teeth press into skin

Wires twist beneath your large hands

Eat like you’re starving

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— from Devotion, Ocean Vuong, in 'Night Sky with Exit Wounds'

[text ID: & so what — if my feathers / are burning. I / never asked for flight. / Only to feel / this fully, this / entire, the way snow / touches bare skin — & is, / suddenly, snow / no longer.]

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[mctal-dev]

Women’s jewelry, silver amulet, 9-10 cc. Slavs, Vikings.

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It’s a slow transition: me turning to human at night. This swan feathers into longing and a desire to be touched where I’ve been starved before. I want teeth and palm against my neck bur quickly, before I fade away again. I need something to cradle me; havoc or fever or ache. I need something to hold me before the colds takes me back once more.

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CLICK NOW to find hot medieval knights near you

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bell mare - david crawford

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Tomb in the Crypt of Arundel Castle

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Mary Oliver, from a poem titled "The Return," featured in What Do We Know: Poems & Prose Poems

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I laid there   my head below the world, my belly-up like an eel, pale as the Dying threads           The fates Forgot to weave with some meaning         or purpose: grim grains sprinkle the floor like hooves on a butcher’s floor years spent loveless, haloed with nuances, O         I tried to be good! but hope and goodness is not enough - wind stirs up           the gazeless bones, a whisper of Old Fallow Fields, and remind us of what it is to give up 

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philip eustace stretton (1865-1919)

“two borzois in an interior sitting on a bearskin rug”

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oh and that gap in my resume is when i was digging my own grave