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VENMO // SPOTFUND // CASHAPP // STRIPE
write what you know, they say. but i don’t know shit
about love. i want to find love in the unknown. love has
had its way with me since birth, and i don’t know how to
be with her, and why should i? who says that love is
something to be known when more frequently it is
something that we stumble into, stupefied, reeling at the terrible
inconvenience of becoming
soft and riddled with desire? everything i am is
reduced to ash in the wake of love. my memories take on
terrible, seductive shapes and
sing in foreign tongues. i drift left of centre, having
forgotten my own name.
write what you would want to read, they say, but i don’t
want to read about love. i want to find love in the wordless. i want to be
caught off guard when love sneaks up on me. i don’t
want a mind cluttered with ancient words. i
want love to make me a melted mind—to have me
babble like a child seeing sunlight for the first time. love
makes every time the first time all over again. if ever i forget
my smallness, i want love to swallow me into her bottomless pit of a
belly and rob my eyes of sunlight. and when
i emerge, after she has ground me down in that
cavern of stillness, i’ll crawl down
from her tongue on hands and knees, having
forgotten my own name.
write what has yet to be said, they say. but there is
nothing i can
say about love that hasn’t already been said. i want to
sleep through the night and find love in the silence. love
wakes up when i toss my body around in bed. closing the
gap between us, she plants a seed in
my back with a soft mouth. love doesn’t
ask me to settle down; she asks me to settle into my own
bones like soil over time. and when it rains, i swell so much with
her nectar that i become too heavy to move. the seed
bursts and flowers from my ribcage, making me bleed.
and when the flowers wilt and the stems withdraw into the
gash in my middle, i am left full with her absence, having
forgotten my own name.
i treat her like a problem to be solved. then she
bares her teeth at me, protecting her right to be wild. but
when i come to her in that wilderness, naked and willing to be
mauled if i must be, she kneads me with
tender paws, showing her belly. and
i remember
i remember
being born of her. and i remember
how i will return to her when it is time.
she takes my name and
i don’t need it so
i don’t take it back.
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daaaang homie. <3
Guttingly gorgeous! I love this so much 🥹