Find what you love and let it kill you.
Let it drain you of your all. Let it cling onto your back and weigh you down into eventual nothingness.
Let it kill you and let it devour your remains.
For all things will kill you, both slowly and fastly, but it’s much better to be killed by a lover.
~ Falsely yours”
― Charles Bukowski
Yves (& sometimes Laura) present intriguing, enigmatic, and amorphous (all meant in a positive, praising way) collages for us to “solve,” “resolve,” interpret in our own ways. This week’s collage, #30, is no less so than other weeks. My response is a PG+ I think
your memory washes
over me like the sweat
and musk of our lovemaking
your voice echoing
in the throes of organism
comes as radio static on own luxuria
your touch cold
from the graves of our couplings
still arches my back, thrusts me forward
your stare aches
rakes me like falcon’s talons
cuts free the bleeding and caged bird
your crime safe
my lust at first sight of you
thus my death at first light