From November, 2024

11.29.2024

oceans say i still write to you and words are a blue halo of joy and desire spilling up the spine. say it breathes as you. say i drowned because you left for the time it takes gold to melt back into earth of our origins lost or stolen ores mined thin. say we entered that earth breathing liquid arising at dawn. full we never got lost or broken and the only vow we kept was what our eyes reflected. say the sky was water and we swam say all this is true and be like recurrent oceans

11.19.2024

ah, du taler sådan her det er sådan sproget lyder: lav horisontal mudderstreg måne over øresund pludder farvet morgenstund en gris er en gris er en flæskesteg  blod der render ud i storebælt  slimede muslinger i limfjord  deres keminova-dna porøse perlemor industriæg landkylling sorte skovstiers forhistoriske  bregnefingre, fåreuldsdupper  hænger fanget i stødhegn  kuplede vild gulerodshoveder  deres harsknede lugt din harsknede lugt. ah, det flade land og dig