Monday, April 26, 2010

ROSE MILK.




She had inherited her own mustard coloured armchair,
next to the window which was always left open.
She never ordered food, I suppose she fed off the light.

She would walk into the cafe parlour with the sunrise, hanging just at the tail of her long draped dress. And would walk out with the full moon just at the tip of her tongue.

The parlour drenched of her aroma.
The haunting smell of rose milk which kept all the waiters hypnotised until moonlight.

Rare did she share direct eye contact with strangers hands that stroked her hair,
as she sat quietly on her armchair facing towards the open window.
Her hands covered in nude lace gloves, revealed only a splash of red nail varnish.
Being the only colour she wore.

The rest of her body remained mystery. Only her face and hair appeared everyday though the royal blue doors of the parlour.

Casual love affairs would sometimes come around in the afternoon to greet her.
A chair was placed by her side, rigid and empty. She never seemed to acknowledge them, as if she had been accused of knowing a man which called her by what really wasn't even her real name.
When she got nervous she would have the tendency to hold her glass of red wine & rest it in between her legs.
Making the male, loose direct contact with her eyes, and lead him to travel beyond the redness of the devils drink.

No encounter would ever make her think. Only she understood why humans had to become something so redundant in her life. Emotionless.
Only she understood why she didn't want to talk.


Now- follow the description that you just read.

It carried on for another 859 days.




Grey hair, which rested like a garden on her back recollected many of those who watched her gaze through the evolution of days light.
Her last tea cup embodied with her touch.
Her napkin embroided with her lipstick.

A nude glove rested on the parlours floor
next to a decadent arm chair,
which sat forever firmly next to a closed window.

TEXT- THE FEMALE ZOO

Thursday, April 22, 2010

TASTE THIS-






I hope you find the nudeness in
this perfect nothingness you have created.





Sunday, April 18, 2010

FLORA YOU LIE SO SILENTLY.


Nothing feels more intimate to me right now
than the feeling of having my own tongue inside my mouth.


Everything lies so hollow.
The smells of ripe fruit from a spring tree
stranded on the coasts of so called friendships.

Nothing real now.

An overcast of lies,
A few days ago
walking into my bedroom.

Feeling moist inside.
All my secrets and mysteries,
I swallow in pride.
Keeps my tongue alive.


TEXT- THE FEMALE ZOO



Tuesday, April 13, 2010

SEA SOON.




Rendering a few thoughts I shared within myself,
haunted me through out a season.

The summer we met gave me gold wings,
nothing was going to happen without wanting.
We fed off one another as the sun rays took me to faint.

I forgot you, as I forgot how look at the suns rays.
I was already blind.

Falling with a thousand bronze leaves,
I dreamt about being non existent.

The moon crept out to make love to me,
reflecting over my body an ocean snow white.

Now I place my hands on my bed,
Waking up to your body cold as spring.


TEXT- THE FEMALE ZOO

Wednesday, April 7, 2010

INCENTIVE TO HIDE.





PHOTOS- THE FEMALE ZOO

Monday, April 5, 2010

I CAN SEE HER FACE.


-Venezia-


PHOTO- THE FEMALE ZOO

Sunday, April 4, 2010

DOLORES DRINKS THE LIGHT.



PHOTOS - THE FEMALE ZOO

Saturday, April 3, 2010

VIOLENTA.

Hater you remember me.
Hater speaks to me,
with his diamonds
still.

PHOTO & TEXT- THE FEMALE ZOO