Untitled yet: A body leaking language

Talking to the women down my lineage. their silence becomes mine.

A moan inhabits my breath, stays captured in my lungs.

Open and close your mouth, unrhythmically, like a fish out of water.

Let the bubbles explode in your oesophagus, vomit out the letters c u n t y.

weave membrane

trauma brimstone

(Oh) My body becomes fluid, my name is fluidity and I leak down your bathroom floor.

My mouth runs and dismantles a wall ornamented with hierarchies and false ideologies.

My brain floats inside an amniotic ocean, could its heated tenderness heal my holes?

Τhe rest of me stays here, between the pauses, the gaps, the void across your language.

anoikeio fragmented

uterus swallow

Talking to Fransesca, I become the ghost, I become the photographer, I become the syllables. Whisper to her: “What remains after the feeling of rejection?”

Gather the pieces of your image and puzzle up a new head, body and limbs.

Is she a me and me a she?

deceive urge

survive consume

Dystopias flow inside the air, bringing tears. I am getting afraid of the words/ worlds:

capitalism, fascism, apartheid, genocide, colonialism, racism, patriarchy, femicide

I am not afraid of saying the words/ worlds: freedom, vulva, feminism, clitoris, presence.

Open your mouth again, let the screams, the pain, the rage unleashed.

eyes obsession

pleasure future

Keep the hollows spreading like a universe expanding to nowhere.

All the moans concentrate into a sphere of pure energy: sew your flesh into your words and vice versa.