The Fairy Lights of Jaymun Icy blue, the full moon, though the night was warm and sweet. She was there, and so was the man who had promised to turn her into a fairy if she could find him at the edge of the lake on a night when the
AN INTERVIEW SERIES IN WHICH MAUVE GETS PERSONAL WITH BRILLIANT ARTISTS, TOO PERFECT FOR THIS WORLD YET LIVING IN OUR TIME. Using 5 images 2 songs and 3 text messages, describe the writer inside of you. Janitor of Lunacy, Nico New Dawn Fades, Joy Division What non living relative understands
Cartoon Cuck asks: My girlfriend freaks out if the TV is not on at all times. One time, during sex, she said, “I want to spend the rest of my life with you” — but she was talking to a cartoon dude on TV she thinks is hot. What the
an in interview series in which Mauve gets personal with brilliant artists, too perfect for this world yet living in our time. Using 5 images 2 songs and 3 text messages, describe the writer inside of you. I make electronic music, these are two songs that describe me. https://starvingpoet.bandcamp.com/track/weltanschauung-dasein-silence https://starvingpoet.bandcamp.com/track/glitch-in-the-cisystem
Life is full of lies, deceptions, trickery, and flat distrust. We humans expend nearly a billion calories per hour – depending on the population of the planet at any moment – obfuscating truths. There are little lies, medium-size deceits, full-blown treacheries, and everything in-between. Some lies weave themselves atop others.
there are any days left then and maybeeven not, that’s a time to come which willbe the end of time, my time anyway,but for now I’m only ten years old, notold at all but maybe not so young, ifI was Jesus I’d be in the templequerying the old men there
Remember me, haloed in the geometry of immolation that consumes the sky eonby eon — Remember me crowned in sunstruck gold and palm fronds, cloaked inprimordial ocean, my hand outstretched toward the arc of death and heaven asthough I could touch the surface of infinity if I tried — As
Amy’s consciousness bursts forth as each sense intertwines with her awareness. She smells the smoke from the bar, hears the clatter of glass as drinks are poured. It’s now five after six. A full day of work is behind her. The man seated across the wooden table is waving his
Yesterday was my birthday.My twenty fifth.I wanted freedomFrom despairAnd longingAnd wanting a thing that never chooses youI’m trying to write about happinessHow it never chooses meAnd how it treats me like a debtorBut I don’t want to write it this wayIn the fifth line of another poemI’ve written this beforeBut
Polyamorous Plurality asks: I have a polyamorous Twitter mutual who is very sweet and cool. However, I recently realized that the “partners” she tweets about are her headmates. Now, I’m not particularly experienced with plurality, but for the most part I feel like I understand enough to be respectful while
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