DRIPPING
and DRIFTING
Like
coins which mean to be some flakes
Like
fleshes which mean to be some drops
Hurting
that was already hurt
Anchoring
there where already has been burned
Expressions
repeat themselves in the messages
Lovely
and bitter are no more in love.
Kiss
me. Kiss my eyes. Kiss any winkle of my exhaust.
Kiss
me. Kiss me between my fingers, which is caressing my sex.
Like
coins, carried by some holders, we are dreaming of a freedom.
A
freedom which is not ours.
Like
fleshes, desiring the desire, which just want to be burned.
Hurt
me. Hurt me. I know you will hurt me.
Let
me acquit ahead.
Let
me whisper all what you borrowed.
Which
you mean to be yours.
Let
me mean to be a flake, which carries his drops of screaming.
Let
me mean to be a coin, which is damn aware of his loneliness.
Kiss
me. Kiss my collarbones. Be not unfair to none of each.
Kiss
me. Kiss my contemplation. Do not venture to be harsh.
Like
fleshes, which one can squash to get the juice of
I
am dropping still in a faith of wait.
Surrounded
by blurry talks,
Need
to suck the nipples of a mother, which is not mine.
Need
to suck the nipples of a truth which I am longing for.
Carry.
Carry me. Do not carry me, I am afraid of being your belonging.
Look.
Look at me. Do not look at me, I already hate your imprint in me.
30.
April 2015
Ninel
Çam