kagablog

i’m losing my mind

it’s slipping and it’s falling

it’s a great big mirror cracking.

I’ll build god’s face again

I’ll glue back piece by piece

with placebos and good luck

he might not be too scarred

Your breasts look so beautiful in this light. I swear, I can’t take my eyes off you. Can I approach you? May I share the same light that makes you glow just for a second? Don’t move away, stand right here. You smell earthy. Turn a bit like this, now look up. No, look as if you’re looking at something outside the window. A little bit more up, a little bit more…Oh God, I can’t bear the visual of your body. Just give me a second. Fuck, look at the way your stomach muscles are working to carry all that weight, the weight of the world. I think I need some water. Where did I find you? You magnificent, radiant creature. Don’t be nervous, I know I’m staring. I wonder what you taste like. There is a slight fragrance of plant in the room, is it you? Maybe it’s the life inside you. Now put your arms behind your head, show me a frontal without any protrusions but your stomach and your breasts. Sit down and open your legs, put your heels on the chair. How swollen you are. I can see you are already really wet, it’s almost time for you to cast the weight.
You are beautiful, mother.

we were my religion (that thing that made me hard)

I prayed only to you (naked and on my knees)

you gave me faith (cleansed my sins with your tongue)

before you failed to show up (just like those missing pages of the book)

now I give myself to a narrow little path (free from sin, free from you)

which leads to a bleeding river (dripping nightly on my pillow)

yet I still pray to you (even though you are invisible)

me, a kept soul (stroking a wound that you left behind)

religiously sensing you (even though you are not here)

waiting, waiting for our after life (your absence never makes me doubt)

I wish I could picture

one soulscape without you

but your absence is blinding

like a brutal sun.

I find myself beached:

a little grain of sand

once inside you vast.

without you everyone is mere

mirage that is nothing

but resemblances of you.

I used to rise underneath you

as a ripe tide breathing
in and out of shore.
now I am but a potential

dawn never seeing light;

a boat never touching ground;

a broken wave crushed.

without you

I am nothing.

if I could write something pure

i wouldn’t be able using words.

the alphabet is already infected

with knowledge and with life.

i would simply scribble markings

with my nails in your back

and only you would know the meaning.

my pencil went pulling

at every dark thread

your mother wove you with

i showed you

a broken being stitched

with markings in lead

you begged me

to rub you out; create a

shiny blank sheet of clear

but I left you there

sitting sad and still

wrapped in scratches