cythreuliaid

[cythreuliaid]

your words were cruel but i think i'll forgive you every time

you were that person for me

[cythreuliaid]

divine liturgy//mysticism

i’m not one who believes in much, skeptical of god and of his son and his disciples. i don’t know who (what) created me, or you, for that matter.

but with this bed as an altar, and my mouth whispering prayers against your neck, two hands meeting two more,

(wrists and shoulders and sternums and - )

my name becomes an invocation. yours becomes a spell. we are the ritual and heaven is ours. there’s nothing else.

[cythreuliaid]

052020161344 - one month prior -

1. tes goûts derrière mes lèvres—

2. i think i was dreaming i had a thousand layers, wrapped round and round me so tight, papery and brittle yet fused to me. i dreamt that he was brushing them off me with those soft shivery trailing touches and i was raw after that, under those hands. the layers flaked away and what remained breathed cleanly, easily—warm, throughout, and tended.

3. — what are you thinking?

    — your neck, and your shoulders- they feel as beautiful as they look.

4. ta bouche contre mon cou—peau, et peau.

[cythreuliaid]

air breathing//road staring

harnessed again!:

the liquid sprawling of one housecat, sunday morning light, brickwash and an opened window, forty degrees fahrenheit. forgot her mug of tea, sitting opposite the room, avoiding the thing-drawer, where she keeps the things she does not want to see. flower petals. aimless breeze. took off her glasses, fog of blurred text, myopia!

one mathematical pause. she woke up alone today. 

[cythreuliaid]

[cythreuliaid]

les toujours chéris, ils existent encore

Read More

[cythreuliaid]

i can't copy-paste myself one time-line to another

speaking frankly, i hate the sound of your voice

[cythreuliaid]

80°F

how different a perspective on the world when everything is green and growing! when the sky is bright and warm! when the birds chirp & sing & i may sprawl outdoors as i please!

[cythreuliaid]

the air, too heavy:

if anything etches itself through the squeeze of time i couldn't forget the rain, the rain: lingering exhales and a steady burn, teach me to blow smoke rings on the porch before midnight i am not so talented, under eaves & under eaves.

[cythreuliaid]

windchill//negative twenty

if i die tonight, will the backs of my hands be chapped forever?

[cythreuliaid]

furtive//feline

stood outside in the rain for a time-- saw moonlight for a moment, just one, and then none at all. the night swallows smoke like I cannot, and in doing so does not stain her fingertips as i do-- too clumsy, perhaps, to see straight into the sky or sway homeward.

[cythreuliaid]

drunk alone. 

went outside, smoked with the cat:

watched two cars almost collide--

i am a happy mannequin!

[cythreuliaid]

thousand negative-space words and there are too many cracks to fill

i can't stop thinking! i can't stop thinking about you!

[cythreuliaid]

peck//choke

and i've just realized i haven't left the house all day.

sat, and shivered, and struggled at opened cupboards, trembling pure cellophane, too frightened to pull back--

my insides are chrome-coated and i am alone.

(i miss you)

[cythreuliaid]

smother

i would like my mother to go to bed so i can go outside to have a cigarette.

[cythreuliaid]

things i want in the future

a big garden, with sunflowers and vegetables and herbs, maybe chickens

a house with a sun room, to sit in and drink tea and read while it rains

to publish a book that i’ve written with characters i love

to read a lot of books

to learn to quilt and make something to keep you warm

to try new things, new foods, new experiences

i want to get married someday to someone i adore

and bring my kids to see their grandparents during christmastime

i want a quiet life where i am happy and the world is bright

[cythreuliaid]

haven't spoken in a month ::

so this is what's left, gray, you low nobility, and it's shoved beneath my bed in the cardboard box you sent me. i haven't listened to the mix you made and signed with a heart beside your name or opened the book you swore i'd love. haven't drunk the tea you bought me or eaten the candy you knew was my favorite. the mug i kept but it's lost now, likely broken, and i haven't looked for it. you sent a shirt, one of yours, and it's crumpled with the rest of your gifts, and cold, where my

heat

can't

reach it.