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Tag Archives: Literature
And in the end . . . She’s just something that happened, an event like any other, ephemeral like that sun on the skin or a sudden startling sound across the quiet room. But even I am not me anymore, … Continue reading
This is what it is to be in our time, to be openly anonymous, to hide nothing and in this exposure to be unseen. Visible invisibility is visibly invisible. I can see that you aren’t there and never were.
What original sin? We search for some novelty and we find such banality. Where is transgression and where is the new? There is no original sin and never was. The possibilities are as exhausted as I am . What if … Continue reading
How do you express your life without being self-important when the only important self is your self? It is, this life, it is, but it isn’t until you say it is. In the beginning was the word. But if unheard … Continue reading
Like a hand clenched, grapsing hard but not grapsing onto anything, holding nothing but emptiness; holding nothing but what was there a moment ago. Like a hand clenched, my body. For so many weeks I wouldn’t sleep with this tight, … Continue reading
Despite the light’s warm clarity, that was the darkest summer of my life. She approached, then fled, then approached, then fled. An illusion like shimmering black silk in the night below her pale face. A mirage; she was a mirage. … Continue reading
What is desire, anyways? An emptiness longing for an emptiness separated one from the other by the warmth of the body and the smoothness of our skin. Creation through desire as it cleaves the void into two, into here … Continue reading
If I had looked on you with more desire, with more hunger, with more need, you would here and would mine this moment here in the night. I heal to be with you and when I heal I … Continue reading
“Lasciate ogni speranza, voi ch’entrate!” (Abandon all hope, ye who enter here!) by Robert Allen Mahaney is licensed under a Creative Commons Attribution-NonCommercial 3.0 Unported License.