chromatographics

stick winter cherry, lush pressed to the pane : clear swirling glass, vessels for grapes red print attracts gazes from gays strange artifacts mouths go astray first contact lasts longer than stains washed away fast — much like our brains they always say lips that disguise can’t be the way, but never the why shouldn’t we just paint what we feel even if lips must become the meal

05.08.2025 16:49 — 👍 0    🔁 1    💬 0    📌 0

“in your ideal world, what does the future of gender look like?” gender abolition pronoun coronation human elocution border dissolution frequent faggotry gorgeous gayety sacred impiety campy pageantry constant questioning mutual strengthening boundary trespassing differents welcoming

04.08.2025 18:21 — 👍 3    🔁 1    💬 0    📌 0

bioavailable there’s always a question when i come into contact with the substance of you. how much of you can i absorb? when you enter my bloodstream, swim my veins where they lead. the longer your half-life, the more i’ll feel you there, coursing through my core. the closer your shape gets to nature, the better i can fully take you in. drink you or swallow you or let you dissolve under my tongue every day as you transform me with area under your curves. when is my next dose?

03.08.2025 17:03 — 👍 6    🔁 3    💬 0    📌 0

atlantic pacific i often wake three hours before your sunrise calls for a response logbook already soaked with ink we laugh, but even if we could, why constrain our outpourings? one winter day you ask for notes on undersea strings aware of both the timbre and tempo of these songs we start signing together i fall into an evening rhythm talking and yes moaning into the phonograph, my head then swallowed by the brassy cone our voices sound better inside when you open your ears again there’s so much weather to hear : wind and rain and quiet calm that lasts too long and means too much we keep sailing even without a map true, land divides us more than sea, but these two coasts call to us both maybe it’s the sirens or the sounds of wavecrash against the shore — the dangers of unfathomed depths

01.08.2025 17:11 — 👍 4    🔁 2    💬 0    📌 0

♥️

31.07.2025 20:19 — 👍 1    🔁 0    💬 0    📌 0

accident(ily) one fifty-four is not the hour to send texts, no autocorrect risky confessions clipped affections dimmed i love you’s from neon rooms could be a typo should i just lol or say her name, reply the same? an oops can’t erase the thrumming bass as juniper slips from her bruised lips tripping on her tongue fuck. uhh. drunk. umm. not that not yet or at least — not like this

31.07.2025 17:20 — 👍 3    🔁 1    💬 1    📌 0