Naked Poetry

On this particular day the said girl wore a ribbon in her hair to work and I remember complimenting it and then after work she mentioned that she wore it for me and that she wanted to look pretty for me. So I had to write another letter to her because we obviously couldn’t start anything due to the work situation. O, potential love! Enjoy.

To clarify, this set of letters that I call “The Shopgirl’s Journals” are written to this girl I was (like) in love with that I worked with once upon a time. After work I’d have to get on my typewriter and write to her because it was too much. Anyway, here I am and here they are :)

Somewhere... there is a tulip unraveling in order to lend its color to your lips.

I’m not gonna scream. That’s too easy. Too loud. This is difficult... this is murder. What is this? I feel like there’s a beach in my body when I think about it. Listen, my Waves Never Had Sound Before...

Intimacy. A hand. Take the palm off. The lines— the heat, it’s intimate. Put it back on. I mean it. The lips have a language all their own. Speak it. Intimacy on her breath, the lion’s here. One more story all along the lines line your palm. I, intimacy! She takes me away with that smile! Yes! Yes, yes!

This is as far as I’ll go.

Everything returns to the Moment it was made.

You taught me laughter and abandon.

Musings on a Sunday morning

Adèle here, reporting to you alive with love, all love.

I was trying to figure out why in the world I was still in love with this girl so I wrote down the word “Because, “ (insert name here) and went from there. I ended up sending it to her and at the time I recorded it just like that with a guitar. I sent it to her and she was like omg that was beautiful why am I crying I feel like you see through me and that she didn’t deserve my art because “who the...

The Explain Your Name Game