I imagine that to others, we appeared like a knot. We were messy and dysfunctional, and constantly tangled up in each other. Our limbs, our emotions, our lives, I was always trying to smooth out the rougher parts of you and you were trying to untangle the disaster that my life was becoming. I don’t … Continue reading Clinging onto a dead love will only bring out a pair of scissors
i. Desire churns in troves, sugars the insides of my thighs with stars, his face in laminated silver. The tiles heave with the sheer weight of it, this shuddering fever, this grace, this vivacity. Diamelas in the blistering. An iguana in the desert, equipped with fangs and an eye for the dreary. There’s a shiver … Continue reading The Sonnet of Fallen Saints Or The Nights Capillary
This is a page from Something's first hardcopy zine found here. For more from this artist, check out their tumblr.
https://youtu.be/OVVHDQVm17s Prayer to the Shoulder Wound of Christ On Sunday I get drunk & buy every book by René Crevel That I can find on Amazon. This act of bourgeois shamanism Is meant to help, even though I know that all our actions Will eventually fade into a calm, clean, & moonish dark … Continue reading Prayer to the Shoulder Wound of Christ by Tom Snarsky