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 Jun 23 Pax
Maddy
Who are you?
 Jun 23 Pax
Maddy
Used to know you
I don't now
Not sure that I want too
Negative to the max
If its Depression
Talk to a professional
I take my leave temporarily
Don't want to walk in tbe path you folllow now
Your used to bes got up and left
Doom and gloom
No Thanks
we are artists without borders, we give and share,

not expecting anything.



in return we are part of it all, and pleasantly

accepted without judgement.



the journey is endless to join as desired.



i am a curator, a book about death in wales,

loosely bound, conceived by another



in memory.



ray johnson.



fluxus.
 Jun 23 Pax
badwords
. (or: how I taught him to ruin me properly) .

His mouth was a chalice filled with thunder—
I drank from it like a man who’s forgotten
how to refuse ceremony.

He said my name like it was a title he meant to inherit.
Not whispered. Not begged.
Claimed.

I took him the way ruins take ivy—
slowly, wholly, letting him crawl through my cracks
and make green what should have stayed dead.

He undressed like it was a coup:
first the belt, then the silence,
then the smirk that knew it had already won.

I touched him like I’d memorized him in a past life
and forgot I was the one meant to teach.

My hands shook.
He steadied them with his teeth.

Skin against skin,
I forgot which of us was ancient.
His body: a question I answered with every bruise.
Mine: a confession disguised as architecture.

I marked him with softness.
He returned it with hunger.

“Slower,” I breathed.
“Why?” he replied.
And there was no answer
that didn't sound like surrender.

We moved like two wolves trying not to pray.
Every gasp a liturgy.
Every ****** a reformation.

I let him trace my scars like roads on a forgotten map.
He said, “You’ve been here before.”
I said, “And I never left.”

Later, he wore my shirt.
Not out of affection—
but to study the shape of power
from the inside.
In Part II, in the myth of Chronogamy tilts into its first collapse—intimacy as transformation, touch as both worship and conquest. What begins as desire becomes ceremony. This is the consummation not of love alone, but of power—the moment when the older lover, believing himself the initiator, unknowingly opens the gates to his own undoing.

Artistically, this section leans into the body as symbol, where every movement echoes cosmic tension: Saturn taking Jupiter, not as dominator, but as vessel. The sensuality is deliberate, dangerous, and layered with premonition.

This isn’t romance. It’s ritual dressed in skin, where hunger wears the face of devotion—and the inheritance of identity begins, not with mimicry, but with moaning.

The Chronogamy Collection:
https://hellopoetry.com/collection/136301/chronogamy/
 Jun 23 Pax
Dr Peter Lim
Ah, how our hearts long
to love and belong!
 Jun 17 Pax
Cadmus
☔️

Don’t forget me all at once
Let me slip away in pieces.

Lose my voice today,
Tomorrow, my laughter,
Then that flicker in my eyes.

Let my words fade like old songs,
Let my kindness dissolve in silence.

I want to fall from your memory
Like raindrops
Dripping from a soaked branch
Not like a lifeless corpse.

☔️
Some departures deserve the courtesy of slowness. Not everything should vanish with a bang, some goodbyes ache sweeter in fragments.
 Jun 17 Pax
Cadmus
They asked me once,
“Why do you always take the hard path?”

I said,
“It’s not that I choose it
It’s just the only path I see.”

Not all of us are given options.

Some roads are rough
because that’s all there is.
Sometimes, life doesn’t offer a choice between easy and hard - it simply gives a road, and we walk it.
 Jun 17 Pax
Liana
Gaslighted
 Jun 17 Pax
Liana
And after years of abuse
I'm still the one ending up feeling guilty
And wondering if he was right
And this was all just in my head
Sometimes
had the words ready.

a twist of logic.



you explained it all

to me. then the radio

stopped.



you wind the thread backward,

while some move forward.



i saw your picture again.



it means nothing.
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