Every time you spoke to me it felt like you aerated me.
Every gesture, ingratiating yourself, with your dilapidated
Words, overthrowing me, circadian, pressured, my hands
Wouldn’t find their way to my ears. The heart is the easiest target.
Never emetic. Always eroded. From the outside. Never touched. Always
Detected. The weak lollop around its capabilities, it sees the best in every
Single approach and ornament. The heart never gets anxious, no, it’s the
Head and its submissive images to the outside. Infiltrated, the hyperbolic grove
Of orange spitfires and fuel, the blanket swallowed by the epileptic tempest,
Mummified, suffocating, vibrant in the darkness and cinnamon diseases.
“Lilac / Siren” by Mikhail Vrubel (1856-1910)
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Published by Croque-Melpomene
Author of "Within Paravent Walls". Pentalingual Idealist. Hypercreative homebody. Self-exorcising Poetess. Creator of "Croque-Melpomene" & "Les Femmes de la Décadence".
I hold a Master of Arts Degree in English Literature, Film and Visual Culture (Dissertation: The Decadent in Love with his Psychopomp: Thomas Mann's 'Death in Venice' and Adrian Lyne's 'Lolita') and a Master of Letters by Research in English Literature, Film and Visual Culture (Thesis: Romanticising Decadence and Aestheticising Death: Women as Projection Bodies and Mimetic Identities in Zola’s 'Thérèse Raquin', Schnitzler’s 'Dream Story', Süskind’s 'Perfume: The Story of a Murderer' and Eugenides’ 'The Virgin Suicides').
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