帖子9

You are not me, and I am never you except for thirty seconds in a year when ecstasy of coming, laughing at the same time or being cruel to know for certain what the other's feeling charge some recognition. Not often when we talk though. Undressing to the daily logs of this petty boss, that compliment, curling our lips at half-announced ambitions. I tell you this during another night of living next to you without having said what was on our minds, our bodies merely rubbing their fishy smells together. The feelings keep piling up. Will I ever find the time to tell you wh… 阅读更多内容

I dreamed I stood upon a little hill, And at my feet there lay a ground, that seemed Like a waste garden, flowering at its will With buds and blossoms. There were pools that dreamed Black and unruffled; there were white lilies A few, and crocuses, and violets Purple or pale, snake-like fritillaries Scarce seen for the rank grass, and through green nets Blue eyes of shy peryenche winked in the sun. And there were curious flowers, before unknown, Flowers that were stained with moonlight, or with shades Of Nature's willful moods; and here a one That had drunk in the tra… 阅读更多内容

Last night unto my bed bethought there came Our lady of strange dreams, and from an urn She poured live fire, so that mine eyes did burn At the sight of it. Anon the floating fame Took many shapes, and one cried: "I am shame That walks with Love, I am most wise to turn Cold lips and limbs to fire; therefore discern And see my loveliness, and praise my name." And afterwords, in radiant garments dressed With sound of flutes and laughing of glad lips, A pomp of all the passions passed along All the night through; till the white phantom ships Of dawn sailed in. Wherea… 阅读更多内容

After the earth finally touches the sun, and the long explosion stops suddenly like a heart run down, the world might seem white and quiet to something that watches it in the sky at night, so something might feel small, and feel nearly human pain. But it won't happen again: the long nights wasted alone, what's done in doorways in the dark by the young, and what could have been for some. Think of all the lovers and the friends! Who does not gather his portion of them to himself. at least in his mind? Sex eased through everyone, even when slipping into death as into a beloved's skin, and pryi… 阅读更多内容

There is no world— Only the beat of your throat against my eyes. White moss is harsh Against these soft white petals of your feet. It is hard to dream you have followed the wild goats Aslant the perilous hills. I have only the fire of my heart to offer you, O peach-red lily of my love! - See more at: http://www.poets.org/viewmedia.php/prmMID/23653#sthash.yizV3NR5.dpuf… 阅读更多内容

If he and she do not know each other, and feel confident they will not meet again; if he avoids affectionate words; if she has grown insensible skin under skin; if they desire only the tribute of another’s cry; if they employ each other as revenge on old lovers or families of entitlement and steel— then there will be no betrayals, no letters returned unread, no frenzy, no hurled words of permanent humiliation, no trembling days, no vomit at midnight, no repeated apparition of a body floating face-down at the pond’s edge - See more at: http://www.poets.org/viewmedia.php/prmM… 阅读更多内容

Body, remember not only how much you were loved, not only the beds where you lay, but also those desires for you, shining clearly in eyes and trembling in a voice—and some chance obstacle thwarted them. Now when everything is the past, it almost looks as if you gave yourself to those desires as well—how they shone— remember—in the eyes that looked at you, how they trembled for you in the voice—remember, body. - See more at: http://www.poets.org/viewmedia.php/prmMID/20504#sthash.Y2MBz0jw.dpuf… 阅读更多内容

Oh, to be ready for it, unfucked, ever-fucked. To have only one critical eye that never divides a flaw from its lesson. To play without shame. To be a woman who feels only the pleasure of being used and who reanimates the user's anguished release in a land for the future to relish, to buy new tights for, to parade in fishboats. To scare up hope without fear of hope, not holding the hole, I will catch the superbullet in my throat and feel its astounding force with admiration. Absorbing its kind of glory. I must be someone with very short arms to have lost you, to be… 阅读更多内容

They decide to exchange heads. Barbie squeezes the small opening under her chin over Ken's bulging neck socket. His wide jaw line jostles atop his girlfriend's body, loosely, like one of those novelty dogs destined to gaze from the back windows of cars. The two dolls chase each other around the orange Country Camper unsure what they'll do when they're within touching distance. Ken wants to feel Barbie's toes between his lips, take off one of her legs and force his whole arm inside her. With only the vaguest suggestion of genitals, all the alluring qualities they possess as fa… 阅读更多内容