(Emil ian and Mar ian
(Good morning my dear, reconstructed creature, night frail butterfly. Soon I will tell you good morning, pushing my face into your chest of drawers.
Hide under my frock-coat... bite my liver. I am inside you and I am eating the swan on the table. I keep unrested. My place is where the world is on fire and the water is digging its way through the walls. You will stay locked inside me, until we recognize each other again. our power, already within us. I am in the place filled with toothed wheels, in the vast and comprehenisive you, in your aquatic mind, in your fingers... My still sleep has begun, my dear... I am chasing carnivorous crows and I am begging. I am flowing rivers of mauve. the blood has overflown at both ends. I breathe you malignantly. (emilian
(more; marian's works:
http://www.myspace.com/frozenlilys
http://www.myspace.com/allisfullofmmov
(I want to walk with you through the French vineyards, to fall asleep against you on trains, to sip your saliva, to never take thy name in vain.. I want your breath. (emilian
(Your bones are speaking about me. I have searched myself what you hold for me. I found enough strokes. When are you going to tell me that you have me for yourself, for yourself, for yourself... and not standing as an apprentice??!... and when are you going to make me gloat upon myself of longing?What i feel right now is dream of waters. And i say waters, knowing what longing you hold for the sea weeds, sands and pines, raging phrases, unsalted winds, fruity pots and tireless hands... and i know you don’t want the dream to be concave, light, as an easy woman fighting for her rights or ceases her right at the entrance, for the bread and the salt...Take me, take me wherever you’ll know... don’t tell me anymore, don’t you tell me anymore... it is you that told me that many of the things happening between us... hold no answers... they are like... unknown...Give me what you want, don’t take anything. What i hold, i hold for myself. Better make me „yourselfâ€... and take advantage of everything, of everything.. the simplicity inside me is not at fortuitous chance, holds no colour... it goes as far as where everything is divided.The one near us feels the sheep and lama carpets slipping from his feet, the furniture turquoise..If today i am for what i am, it is because you made me that way.And i would like to say that... with an atemporal attitude, blood on my lips...Really seeing myself.. in the night... burnt by the sun after... consented in the temples within you...I feel that inside you is my needer, my haircuts for the bones, the caudine forks, the shelters of straw... laurel..My sense is screaming.I have the courage to dig you out. Give me the reasons.My dear.(emilian
