Into a vacuum

The north wind did not manage to wipe away the sin from the tormented body
tried desperately to dress the naked, ruthless wind penetrated the marrow
in a shout of chills
hands trembling like leaky branches
the cramp was thrown back into a dark room
in a childhood friend described
the pale blue cold whispers stubbornly
sucking the power out of whining body
to pass
to recreate
a virtue buried
It was you and your intrusion that created the image
firmly etched shape of an icicle
Yes, scream the chorus in fierce heart’s struggle
It was the rebel in an infrastructure that took the sharpened pen
similar to a historical form
in a war that began

and never ended.

Olivia 5

 

 

 

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Who and who doesn’t

 

Touch me in an interrupted pattern
repetitively
to find
the way out
quickly as to prevent stagnation
the body moves itself
discuss with your motion a wasted dream of a shadow
Meet it as a close friend
missing
empty and near
as a tone
vibrate, circulate
ventilate
discuss
a mute body is abandoning itself
friction
Daily motivation makes a phrase spin
lost in the skin of a drum
undomesticated
strictly stunned
strong vision
meeting, feeding itself out of the next
in a square which is locked to free
internal battles
engaging the air
meaningfully
like chewing the aroma
of a taste that leaves me.

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Conceptual

 

Self-realization

It was the fairy in me that danced in the woods
the rebel who escaped to take the fight
the beast that tore the throat because of hunger
the philosopher who calmly witnessed life under his tree
it was I who scorched my body in desperation to become visible, crouched in the night like a fetus and cried without end
it was I who fought until the oxygen ran out and jumped into the fire to flee
I who held the jewel of patron life and cheered by the good luck to find a home built by hardened hands
protection from the wild boar and a road leading forward
see, it is I who is waving in the distance
free.

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Conceptual photography

 

If I was out there, I would not be standing here

The scent of your warmth seduces me every day
like the shadow of your being
missing is close but begets the light of longing to find the silhouette that takes its form
running towards your ray of future absence
nutrition for a lost swan
in its own pond.

Putting her lonnging light

Conceptual photography