okay, so i’m sitting in this room, right?
what i see as january is showing up as last september, blurred, with chromatic aberration making candy coloured doubles of everything (so slightly out of sync)
but also, in just one stripe of magenta motion,
it’s
it’s
some time outside time that was actually a few years ago now
in one of the creamiest, heaviest, slowest moments that i know
of spring summer fall or winter
where you held me or i held you so that we couldn’t fit any closer together
and we sang hymns of deep, slow, long breaths
back and forth in safe & sleepy silence.
oh… every time this one replays, some secret (tender) spot in my rib cage aches in perfect vacuum.
why do the scenes change with such rapidity?
from even farther back, now
barreling in from stage-right: the coarse itchy imprint of cheap motel carpet on my bare knees & tops of feet.
that moment when my lovesick was fooled by your deathwish.
******* it.
i watch myself being swallowed by a giant blue whale of regret.
then
in a sparkling montage (soft focus, pink highlights), a carousel of slides starts ticking by: all the lust. the smell of hot dust and happy circuits.
snapshot after snapshot of insane, flaming, resonating lust.
expanding outwards in rainbow colours,
like hunger but hundreds times better. i could not escape it anywhere, and still cannot find any suitable refuge.
as sweet honey lures the fly,
your flesh did mine.
like bubblegum. like cotton candy. like cherry pie. oh, the way the syrup flowed between our…
-click-
i watch the dim darkness for the flash of the face
of the smudgy raccoon; my breath catching in my chest as i recognize
that look of a frantic scavenger. perpetually startled by this scarcity & the aching persistent lack of you forever, which brings with it a high pitched ringing doubt!
… what if i never love like that again?
Jan 8
Jan 8, 2026 at 2:01 AM UTC
okay, so i’m sitting in this room, right?
what i see as january is showing up as last september, blurred, with chromatic aberration making candy coloured doubles of everything (so slightly out of sync)
but also, in just one stripe of magenta motion,
it’s
it’s
some time outside time that was actually a few years ago now
in one of the creamiest, heaviest, slowest moments that i know
of spring summer fall or winter
where you held me or i held you so that we couldn’t fit any closer together
and we sang hymns of deep, slow, long breaths
back and forth in safe & sleepy silence.
oh… every time this one replays, some secret (tender) spot in my rib cage aches in perfect vacuum.
why do the scenes change with such rapidity?
from even farther back, now
barreling in from stage-right: the coarse itchy imprint of cheap motel carpet on my bare knees & tops of feet.
that moment when my lovesick was fooled by your deathwish.
******* it.
i watch myself being swallowed by a giant blue whale of regret.
then
in a sparkling montage (soft focus, pink highlights), a carousel of slides starts ticking by: all the lust. the smell of hot dust and happy circuits.
snapshot after snapshot of insane, flaming, resonating lust.
expanding outwards in rainbow colours,
like hunger but hundreds times better. i could not escape it anywhere, and still cannot find any suitable refuge.
as sweet honey lures the fly,
your flesh did mine.
like bubblegum. like cotton candy. like cherry pie. oh, the way the syrup flowed between our…
-click-
i watch the dim darkness for the flash of the face
of the smudgy raccoon; my breath catching in my chest as i recognize
that look of a frantic scavenger. perpetually startled by this scarcity & the aching persistent lack of you forever, which brings with it a high pitched ringing doubt!
… what if i never love like that again?
