acropolis 8
chairs thrown in a pool
i am still here
you are still here waiting
amongst a silent plastic assembly
parthenon to some coming company
swell to know
what came before and
what came after
you is more
than what you are now
they are glossed over and below
as it must be nice to be
some quartz to keep running your hands back & forth & over
& over & over
you can fuck me and i mean it
i have waited whole lives to be touched by you.
and i will wait. and wait. &
wait [...]
whole lives to come
into an understanding of [...]
i’ve been told it’s like swimming in warm water.
the lapping dogs of morning will likely turn rabid.
i have seen one devour a rat.
i have seen one fall in and learn to swim and fail to find the exit.
i cannot decide to darwin or to god
that if suffering is meant as machine why
in a small dark motel
when i hear the sound of girls
talking through the wall
i become an ancient flowing spring.
him of hallucination
he spoke in the ancient liturgical language sitting cross-legged in the shade of some ecological imbalance, said: "good luck on the edge of vulnerability come the tooth, roots like signs of the absolute a century of boiling light castle drip slowly strange-looking creature pulped with love."
a name is to domesticate
when I am moving I am nameless
only in sleep may you call to me
— (el)ena likes psychoanalysis and artichoke flowers. You can find her at https://bbkafka.wordpress.com/