bratislavaibratislava
we are ephemeral.
walk me through the streets of your slavic dream; i will call you fešanda, eyepopping showstopping gorgeous
and my voice will unfurl like a hothouse flower with the arias of the stars
ii
my krásna, vábivý, we can waltz until our quintessence breaks to drip sapid emotion over the pristine banks
of lovers' danube fairytales
one-step-step, one-step-step, twirl, dive, and catch,
we are royal miscreants and unsure fawns, limbs flailing in sync
with the setting sun
terpsichore, dive in us now;
dead blossomsyou are autumn-born.dead blossoms
i can see dying sunflowers in your squinting eyes,
the dead sunlight on italy as day becomes dusk.
you are dead, or dying.
i seem to remember when you were alive.
pick from the smelling-salts i have on display: cloves? coriander? sage, or sweet myrrh?
i would wander the deserts for arabian wisdoms of phoenixes and feathered fires, and bedouin poets' hearthside murmurs (just to see you laugh like bells)
cinderblock doesn't become a girl like you; you and bleak concrete are in love, these days. &nbs
kernelsher name was lakshmi, and she hailed from jaipur. she swung her hips when she walked, and she spoke in cinnabar shades of blandiloquence.kernels
lakshmi was the kind of girl that didn’t find it shameful to work at the popcorn booth at the cinema, even though she was only sixteen. she would stand smiling by the greasy tabletop, scooping popcorn into red paper bags with a far-too-sprightly air. she would ask “butter with that, sir?” in a throaty rajasthani accent, and the man would shake his head. “whaddidya say?”
“butter with that, sir?” “butter with that?”
lak
lady janei. if you were a lady, your name would be jane. your porcelain fingertips would caress your lovely piano of ebony; you would curtsy and curtsy until your white lace gown turned into a flock of geese and flapped away, leaving you flushed, indecent, in your crinoline.lady jane
ii.
leaving mayfair by carriage, you would wave to the crowd, who would be tipping their caps to the lady in lace. and off you would ride to your castle in the rain;
yours would be an amaranthine fairytale.
for in warwickshire, sea-glass hearts are guarded
by men in great fur hats. &nb
banana trees.-banana trees.
yellow blooms stunted by black bouts of anorexia, south african bees swarming the overgrowth of my heart with their rainbow of veins
we fry milk coloured jellyfish for fun, even though we can't eat them, drink their electricity the way the japanese suck the sanatized guts of blowfish
when midnight comes we'll use the spinal discs of snakes for streamers and the light in your eyes will be brighter than the sun rising above the buds of banana trees.
a piranha peels the underbelly of a lizard from the sea's surface as you peel away
this is who i wish i was, and want to become;
Lonely
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Stop staring at the mirror before it tells you the truth. [link]
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short and stocky, dammit!
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( it'sgonnabealright )
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Give, and it shall be given to you.
For whatever measure you deal out to others, it will be dealt to you in return.
~photo-genius
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raphael does photography, too!
I haven't been on deviantart in 3 months, and I had 353 deviantions, and 18 messages....
HI.
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one day your life will flash beflre you eyes, so it's best you make it worth watching
Don't ever tell anybody anything, if you do, you start missing everybody
But yeah...
Didn't know you were into writing?
Why don't you just post a picture of your handwriting?
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one day your life will flash beflre you eyes, so it's best you make it worth watching
Don't ever tell anybody anything, if you do, you start missing everybody
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