the flood

and this is how we are
when the hurricane hits
when our ears clamour with nothing
but raving water.
no dusk,
no dawn,
no mercy,
just enraged water.
this is how we are
when we behold a flowing, soothing body
morph into something ferocious, unforgiving
when we realize how it can flush us out of the tiniest parts of ourselves
till they can no longer find us
in the crevices
that line our palms,
that dimple our navels,
that wrinkle our skin
until we are completely rinsed out 
and there is no more us left in us
until our veins burst with diluted blood 
until we are nothing. just bloated, floating existence. 
until we are nothing. just raw, pulpy vacuum.

i would have preferred to remain as i was—
a brewing storm;
but a storm at least
brewing at least
alive, at least.


prayers II

to lover
..and if i must love, let it not be unrequited
my lips are the red sea when they part.
my skin is red wine when you drink of my love.
the sky is dusk red when i serenade the sun.
when i love, it is with all of me —
this you know already.

so bring me a dozen red roses.
bring me saturn’s rings.
bring me water from the valley in Aphrodite’s navel.
bring me a token of your love.

prayers I

to God
..and if i must fall, let it not be from pride

empty me of myself
lavish me
with love and suffering
keep me humble
keep me worthy

on sadness, excerpt.

in the belly of the night
the moon found me
on the very edge of existence.
she pulled me gently into her soul
and whispered,
tell me
what does your body know
of surrender?


3 more days. #unityfestival


it takes a different kind of courage 
to fall in love with how infinitely impossible 
it is to understand everything. 
to be at peace 
with knowing that not all things 
are meant to be known, 
or understood.




his eyes were always hollow when they kissed
his pupils, darkened, dilated,
pulsing with blackhole-like energy..
he was empty.
his tongue,
thirsting for any traces of God it could find
on her lips, at the back of her throat,
on her neck, her breasts,
in her navel..
he was deteriorating.
"and i have lots of myself to spare,"
she would purr.
he said she had an unearthly savour
that was so potent
it left spasms in him
that his brain could mistake for signs of life,
and that was good enough for him.
he always went back.
as for his crazed searches for God
on every inch,
every curve,
every cranny in her body..
"don’t sstop. it feels sso goood,"
she would gasp.
that was all she cared for.

348/365 [excerpt]

i melt
and collect into pools of silence
in the depression of your collar bones
reverent, ripple-less
waiting to seep into your throat
imbue all you will ever say
with all of me somehow
drench your voice, before it escapes you,
with presence of my lust



Enrico Ferrarini


there are times
when i cannot in good faith
offer cups of myself
to another
to drink.
no matter the height of their
thirst for me,
no matter the breadth of pleasure
they promise me in return
for sip of me.
i see more of myself than they do
naive and unseeing in their lust
they do not know
that my aftertaste is more overpowering
than anything they could ever taste
they would drown
in residue
of me.



you sit at a restaurant
wine in glass
completely still
completely aware that
ten breaths across from you
sits the love of your life 
the wielder of your heart
the razor in your chest
the ache between your thighs
he is leaving
you are still
in the process of realizing this
like sudden drops of blood
leaking onto your palm
from the ceiling
you are not sure what is happening,
but you are already panicking
your neck is tense
your lips, a sharp line
the air is shrinking away from you
tiptoeing away from you
i mean, it’s awkward
there is not enough space
in any given second
to contain the mass of words swelling inside your throat,
threatening explosion..
he is leaving.
you do not feel betrayed.
just raw. like you no longer have skin.
like there are wounds in your wounds.
like flesh soaked in vinegar.
but anyway, before it’s too late:
bottom lip.
crook of neck.
birthmark on right earlobe.
flutter in lashes.
splinter in brow.
phantom in iris.
judas in the set of his jaw
you study your lover
committing every swollen breath
to memory.
committing sins against your soul—
like loving too deeply a man
whose deepest feeling toward you was
a man whose deepest ache for you was
in his groin.
a man who found it possible—easy even
to just leave.
you study him
committing to memory
every gradient of your anguish
as you stumble along this process of realizing
you appear calm,
licking wine off your lips,
fingers pressed against rim of wine glass.
he is gone.
and you are becoming.
you vow never to forget
this pain.



you have known me
my touch
my taste
i have ridden you
to searing heights
you have swum me
over the horizon, into surreality
paradise maybe
we have travelled each other
studied each other
marvelled at the constellations
that line our bodies—
Orion in my left collarbone
Andromeda in your jawline
Scorpius in my navel
Hydrus in your right thigh
we have gazed into each other
found God through each other
with starry eyes
honeyed lips
flesh, indulgent
skin, teeming with tactile treasures
hands searching, always searching
pupils dilating with each discovery

but those were different times
we were different worlds
our hearts trembled in different rhythms
none of that can exist here
not anymore
not ever

i have drunk my fill of you.
there is no ache.
i am sated.

when the sun outstretches its arms
when your tongue dissolves into sand
from the intensity of its loving unrestraint
run into its scorching embrace
tuck yourself inside its face
and melt in surrender

it is not about you.
it has never been about you.

show me how deep love can be..


there is a little bit of heartbreak
i think
in the way you look at me.
my skin aches
when our breaths lay hot and naked
entwined, soaked
in something corrosive
and deep red, and intoxicating.
it’s addictive,
the way our love ferments-
at once, demanding
of all our five senses
at once, rescinding
of all our past ruin
at once, seducing
every inch of our desperate need
for an object of worship
to devour as Communion.

there is a little bit of heartbreak
i think
in the way your mouth
surrenders to my skin
in the way my soft
engulfs your hard
in the way everything melts
in lustful consecration.

your eyes are redrimmed
from too much wine
my heart is bleeding
from too much you
the air is sticky
from too much us
our veins are leaking
there is too much blood.

(Source: flamesunfurl)