(Source: moscow)

algae:

“A faithless recognition that leaves no trace, of the dream rail that noisily burns the darkness toward your chest. Its tongue sweeps away even the falling branches of oxygen, and does not go pale, even to the single breath of driving rain that attacks from up ahead. Much less without hindrance, in spite of the apocalypse of red and yellow.”

(Source: moscow)

(Source: moscow)

(Source: moscow)

algae:

“Who on earth is that
covering his face in darkness,
breeding germs beneath his nails,
laying eggs like fleas and lice between our skin and clothes,
making my skin sag and withering your breasts?”

(Source: moscow)

(Source: moscow)

(Source: moscow)

algae:

“I want to be an angel.
I want to be a flower.”

(Source: moscow)

algae:

Crickets are singing.
They’re singing as if to say,
“If I don’t sing now it’ll be too late.”
Naturally
that makes me cry.

(Source: moscow)

(Source: moscow)

(Source: moscow)

The wind whistles through corn.
It whistles, “Die!”
It whistles, “Die!”
I think I will die.

(Source: moscow)

algae:

“Tiny fingers are
pulsating
as if they were petals
of the flowers
that bloomed in me

They look proud
They look happy
snuggling with each other

As if they had never been forced to do
anything mean
anything despicable
by me”

(Source: moscow)

(Source: moscow)

moscow:

“Dreams are black.
Youth is black.
The future and history are black.
Death, too, is black.”

- Tian Yuan

(Source: algae)