HONEY

How would I forget how you pierced through my walls and windows The warmth of drizzling honey— A mid-summer sunset on a bleak December With eyes closed, and arms open I let you build a home in me Your stare hit me, your touch burned me You took my breath and my words away That …

TAPESTRY

I was a rag doll— trifled, toyed, and played Whose patchworks were rended, torn, and ripped Every scraps and seams don't fit I'm a roman tapestry— stitched, sewn, and weaved Every thread is an untold story A piece of a whole new one unveiling before me

SYNESTHESIA

In between the mundane seconds of a yellow Sunday afternoon and the stale poppies melting on my ill windowsill I hear your grey voice rushing in sea waves Echoing in my brain's camphoraceous caves Conquering my body like it's a war zone fighting for my sanity And the faces of your face are rip-offs clinging …

OUT IN THE COLD

I wore your hat to protect my head from the debris falling from our family tree but the spilling blues and red, lumps the purple on my skin The invisible scars, the indelible tints Throbs and thumps within 'Cause father, when you left I saw how mother went out in the cold gasping for life, …

S

I saw you stood like a palm tree with drooped leaves falling free I heard you laughed without a sound and it echoed beneath the ground There's a yellow orange gumball you didn't chew it was stuck in your throat, choking you your lips were unripe plums turning into prunes as your smile loomed like …

G E M I N I

You say, my newborn face dwells only in the frames of your ancient house, and my purity was left in my mother's womb and arms So now, you try to cleanse me with your precious soap, Scour... Scrub... Rub... and then you conceal me with lotion, some powder, more perfume! And yet some more, make …

MORNINGS WITH SYLVIA

56th death anniversary 🌹

Moonlit Pieces

I’ve memorized how poppies dance in my blood every midnight,
Til I turn into a pale moonlight
A stasis in the night, cloudy eyelids shut

And then I rise like thin hairs on skin, cold breeze within
A dark house in my universe,
A paperweight head in dirty white sheets

The pain we share burns now in the eye of the emerging sun, flickering
Piercing my windows, hanging on my ceiling

I ingest sugar pills in the morning,
I ingest art, I ingest you
My favorite breakfast
The extracts from your left breast—
the white milk leftovers prepared before you left
I keep stirring, concocting my black coffee
And then I eat the crumbs of you
Transcendence occurs in my stomach
Oh, how you speak too much and too little!
Your words in turmoil, I taste
As the claws of letters hook my skin

I hear the birds sing your…

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JAPANESE SUN

🌤️☀️🌻🌼🌷🌸

Moonlit Pieces

Another lost light,
the kid inside me shivers in fright
this life felt so foreign
ever since you were taken by pain
With eyes shut,
I saw your face and my chest was so tight
the wind whistles and sings of my ceasing dreams
a ghost of us blankets me tonight
out in the cold, where I chase the rising sun
the faster I run, the farther the sun
as languishing as mazes,
as dizzying as whirlpools
round and round
until I can see none, until I’m almost gone
but the thought of you rekindles a fire
freezing inside me
I melt an outcry
and felt so alive
I sniff fervor in the air
as I dance with the ghost of us tonight
to the music of my dreams
I swore by the night—
our algid lips shall be kissed by the sun,
and its rays shall wrap us…

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INTRODUCING ELI KYOKO— FUNFAIR

A slice of me in Morality Park—Art & Lit Collective. Please do check us out, thank you!

MORALITY PARK

IMG_20180305_233841

Welcome to the funfair where anyone can go through. This is the mirthful side of the world that haunts me in vivid and vibrant colors. Sugar and spice, taste them inside!

They can see me as a horse in the carousel, the ferris wheel or the roller coaster ride. Thrilling and electrifying. Where they go round and round, up and down, until eruptions arise in their downtown.

They want me to lick their lollipops and pop the elastic balloons with my tongue and teeth. Their heads contain nothing but helium. Swallow or spit.

Try it. Then tell me how fun it is.

I’m the tin cans on where they throw their balls at, or the punching bag on a boxing machine game.

One hit = one bubble gum flavored pride.

They drop a coin in the toy machine where they see me as stuffed, aggressive to get inside.

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SIREN

Yesterday was the first time I rode an ambulance alone with her on a stretcher, I was inside but it felt like I wasn't there, I felt like I lost my other senses and my face was empty. All I heard and felt were the wallops of siren piercing my whole being, as if there were …