She ingests a furrowed fruit and she guffaws for a sudden spooning. She meanders through the present without a tint of progressive adornment. She sees his patent buoyance like it’s honed to her very liking. Riveting. Swallowing. She gapes deep into currency and their mediocre gaiety.
She flickered a filter-tipped fag then she prayed for sedate lungs. She envisioned their forthcoming delights without a tinge of empathic melancholy. She mauled his plaintive qualms like a persistent cough. Eliciting. Invoking. She tranced out into the morrow and their seamless ever-after.
She will savor that solitary second and she will breathe for an infinite affair. She shall expunge the acute yesteryears without a tone of perfect despair. She will endure his passive warmth like tepid baths. Renewing. Reincarnating. She shall bellow out into space and their meant collision.
Through the three tenses. Via her five senses.
This is how she adores him.
Author
Eяin Heяoin
2 comments
VICTOR
said...
July 4, 2010 at 8:05 PM
I like the way your shes always wield power. I suspect your shes are your avatars.
In many instances, yes, this she is also me. (Yay?)
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She ingests a furrowed fruit and she guffaws for a sudden spooning. She meanders through the present without a tint of progressive adornment. She sees his patent buoyance like it’s honed to her very liking. Riveting. Swallowing. She gapes deep into currency and their mediocre gaiety.
She flickered a filter-tipped fag then she prayed for sedate lungs. She envisioned their forthcoming delights without a tinge of empathic melancholy. She mauled his plaintive qualms like a persistent cough. Eliciting. Invoking. She tranced out into the morrow and their seamless ever-after.
She will savor that solitary second and she will breathe for an infinite affair. She shall expunge the acute yesteryears without a tone of perfect despair. She will endure his passive warmth like tepid baths. Renewing. Reincarnating. She shall bellow out into space and their meant collision.
Through the three tenses. Via her five senses.
This is how she adores him.
She flickered a filter-tipped fag then she prayed for sedate lungs. She envisioned their forthcoming delights without a tinge of empathic melancholy. She mauled his plaintive qualms like a persistent cough. Eliciting. Invoking. She tranced out into the morrow and their seamless ever-after.
She will savor that solitary second and she will breathe for an infinite affair. She shall expunge the acute yesteryears without a tone of perfect despair. She will endure his passive warmth like tepid baths. Renewing. Reincarnating. She shall bellow out into space and their meant collision.
Through the three tenses. Via her five senses.
This is how she adores him.
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Born in the mid-80s, Erin Herøin is a marveller of non-sequitur writing, cinematic films, & analogue photography.
Before, she used to be an aspiring physician; now, she is a newbie bassist who has 5.50/5.00 eyes & black tattoos on her right arm.
She's the former chief editor of Lomography's international magazine, the founder of Whilst We Wait, & the author of Paranoirexia.
Today, she curates and directs Parallel Planets, an online publication on creatives worldwide.
She dwells in the Eastern border of Manila with her pet pussies.
Before, she used to be an aspiring physician; now, she is a newbie bassist who has 5.50/5.00 eyes & black tattoos on her right arm.
She's the former chief editor of Lomography's international magazine, the founder of Whilst We Wait, & the author of Paranoirexia.
Today, she curates and directs Parallel Planets, an online publication on creatives worldwide.
She dwells in the Eastern border of Manila with her pet pussies.
I like the way your shes always wield power. I suspect your shes are your avatars.
ReplyDeleteIn many instances, yes, this she is also me. (Yay?)
ReplyDelete