.
.
people introduce us to ourselves
- courtney kampa
.
.
.
the tiuu of birds
.
.
.
LANGUAGE
Cosmos, i.e., pain raved in me with a diabolic tongue.

HARMONY
Deprived. And why shouldn't you be deprived?
Those better than you were deprived.

LONGING
Not that I want to be a god or a hero.
Just to change into a tree, grow for ages, not hurt anyone.

- Czesław Miłosz
.
.
.
with my companion, the spirit of desolation
- czesław miłosz
.
.
.
MUDANÇA

solidão nova
mesmo vento, outro vazio
mesmo eu, sem mim

- AR
.
.
.
My heart grew weary
From delight,
From despair,
From ardor,
From hope.

- Czesław Miłosz
.
.
.
A shame of failing to be
what I should have been.

- Czesław Miłosz
.
.
.
.
.
Full of
beg, I wait for a prince longing to give my
breath back to me. Heretic tongue,
I will never admit what he means to
me. Will say
he was simply a game I
could not pass up. Love
is a death wish between you
and the you you’re becoming. I will never admit to
him that his love feels like a tease
from God. A gift I
only deserve as prelude to punishment. Love
is a bluff  between goodbye and forever. You
give yourself to the gamble, to
the breathlessness that is a hammer
on your chest. I
will never admit what his love
is to me.

- Josh Alex Baker
.
.
.
UNROMANTIC LOVE
J. V. Cunningham

There is no stillness in this wood.
The quiet of this clearing
Is the denial of my hearing
The sounds I should.

There is no vision in this glade.
This tower of sun revealing
The timbered scaffoldage is stealing
Essence from shade.

Only my love is love’s ideal.
The love I could discover
In these recesses knows no lover,
Is the unreal,

The undefined, unanalysed,
Unabsolute many;
It is antithesis of any,
In none comprised.
.