Serpentine
but, now even more often than seldom,
and while she writes her candy letters
(with gilded and elegant utensils)
out of nowhere
(in this well composed mind that streams)
random holes
with
Strange and evil words
appear.
interrupting
her most consciences efforts
to ignore
and as she stops for a moment or two
to sit still like you would do
in suspicion of burglars
creeping through
they come out,
one by one.
squeezing them outside membrane
they bounce right back against the inside of the skull.
Angry words
inside her skull
forming lines
repeating lines
knife and kill and rape and death, cannibal murder
fear death devil violence insane
and
evil, evil
their letters are glued,
not to rearrange them
fear – gear – dear
play with rhymes
to silence them,
make less scary
but they swallow one another and melt to form rivers
like sticky waters dripping in through pores
if only you tilted your head.
she waits, motionless
this won’t take long.
Picture – Catatonic (edit) 2011.

From catatonic to serpentine, from he to she, from his to her, and all of that in between Heaven and Earth, inside same old frame. Us and they.
‘But (s)he isn’t wearing anything at all!’
As wonderful as always… :)
you got it :D hvala :)
Very captivating, amazing, beautiful and sad. Loved it. Beautiful art. dang gina…
thank you very much :)
Nice!
:)
Devastating and compelling. I’d be interested to know which came first– the drawing or the poem.
hm, the poem actually :)
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the picture is gorgeous and resonate x i have to mummy i’ll return to the poem x
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