I Fear the Peaceful Dreams, They’re Lying

Written by Tabalith
Art by Merlin Lightpainting


Falling from a cliff with wings made of your own bones,
bones juice, that is; boney wings stuck to your skin
like this newborn sticks to the flesh between your thighs

Now you both are falling but some call it flying –
this makes it sound beautiful to those who have ears;
the other ones run with you, your feet are red dust

Once you land on your face, it belongs to the stones,
and you count stones so as to not count the crimson cells
streaming down your connected dots of loose meat

You lick tombstones and feel the salt of thirst;
salt gropes your breasts and it is not salt but a human
cutting off human hands and stitching together animal claws

Death is somewhere near, down here between wombs;
licking every bloody knife lying on the sandy grounds,
you have forgotten that you once were a somethingness

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Withering Esther

Written by Tabalith
Art by Jill Burrow


Esther, I have observed every
inch of your skin,
sliding
like a snake,
crawling
like a coyote,
biting
like a barracuda

There is no end to your body,
Esther,
there is no beginning
of your muscles,
no color to your
Pumping, quiet blood,
no death to your
screaming cells

I have heard your
voice, Esther,
I have seen your
blooming decay,
I have feared
you ever since

Esther, drag your
body over mine,
infect me with your
toxic juice,
let me crawl
inside you, so
I can find peace

Oh, Esther — !

What I Would Feel If I Knew You

Written by Tabalith
Art by Mart Production


this feeling? for what?
no feeling at all,
this kind of feeling.

you try explaining
the space between my
eyes without opening
your mouth or
parting my lips,
and i stare at your
sunglasses that hide
the two reasons
why i haven’t
left you
yet

you make me turn
around, face the wall
and explain
to the stones
what I cannot
explain to myself

Observing a Creature of Human Complexion

Written by Tabalith
Art by Mart Production


Between your toes
you have begun to grow
crocodile eggs,
breaking them with sweat
streaming down your legs

I have a towel between
my hands and other
parting cloths of flesh;
I have a towel
that is too white to
be seen by your eyes

Your eyes’ sea level
is rising; dandruff is
rustling from your hair,
oily like skin
touched far too often
or far too early

In this room,
dimmed by blue light
streaming from your
lungs like paper pumas,
I sit with twisted feet,
clinging to my towel

This popping sound –
is it a crocodile egg
or your bottle of beer?
I don’t turn around –
tonight, I will not
be the one to decide

There Was No Rain

Written by Tabalith
Art by Sam Willis


I thought it had started to rain
as it always starts to rain,
when I least expect it

And then I stared into the
mountain of dark blue dots

I stared into its pumping
heart of summer night whisper,
waiting for the heart to speak
a language I understand,

finally.

But look, my love, look outside –
I thought it had started to rain

But the sound came from the
wind and I smell nothing in the air

The pumping heart has died in
your little hands, my love.

I Will Watch You While Undressing

Written by Tabalith
Art by Clark Cruz


Fear me –
You will never have enough eyes
To grasp my yellow steps
Climbing up the walls
Against which you always put her,
Never me

Smell me –
You will rub yourself against your bed
To get rid off my flower scabies;
It will infect your veins
And you will make her lick it,
Never me

Hear me –
I will undress myself on the balcony
Two fingers already on pumping skin;
I will watch you tear up bug legs,
Imagining you all over me,
Me me me

Engraving My Tombstone with Sapphire Sprinkles

Written by Tabalith
Art by Koolshooters


I gave you nineteen flowers
And ate the eighth one
So you will be forced to crawl
Down to me

You’ll fish for the flower;
I’ll have already absorbed it,
Fearing you’ll vanish
Once you find the last petals

I see my own funeral
And I am utterly bored –
No one has come to see me

My hands rest awkwardly
On my open-cut chest

Invitations sent back
Without having been read

Why should death differ in
Any way from life?

One moon has passed

Pollen crawl over my lips

The eighth flower is still
Mine and only mine
Because you didn’t come

You never counted
The flowers

My Bones, Engraved with His Song

Written by Tabalith
Art by Mathias P.R. Reading


I’m still, I am still collecting the few bones
lying across the floor, dissembling the little
engraved notes of his song

And only the gods know I shouted
his song out towards their heaven, beseeching
them to throw me

Back into the mud where my bones were born
and where he found me, naked like a spider
with nine eyes of glass

But instead, I crawl into his torrid bed of
nameless feathers – just one more time,
I whisper to myself

My bones, mesmerized by his lullaby,
observe from across the room, my hands that
try to mask his face

And I watch myself, stripping off my skin
after I have kissed my skeleton goodbye
to glide into his veins

my emerald

Written by Tabalith
Art by Aidan Roof


                                                                                                                  one of many summers to come

my emerald,

let me crawl inside the pit sitting patiently
between your neck and your shoulder;
let me lay my tired soul there;
let me align my many faces
until you find the truest mask
and kiss it until it breaks;
let me draw circles underneath your eyes
and paint them in the nameless colors
i see, when you follow the traces
on my body of opal;
let me swirl around your feet
to bewitch the snakes hiding between
your toes, waiting for my death;
let me hunt for your tongue
and lead it to my ear until you
begin to whisper in the language
we invented in our first summer night.

                                                                                                                                                     –       yours.

she sat next to his legs

Written by Tabalith
Art by Hoang Loc


created somewhere somewhere there maybe maybe there where
heaven and hell make love right there in the middle in front of the
eyes of god and her angels and her slaves and where it is so loud
so loud because they cry they cry out of lust and love and hate
and they cannot breathe even if they try and they always try and
i still haven’t decided yet who i am to you heaven or hell you say
i am your heaven and i look at you with my eight eyes closed
and i drink you while you do not turn the other way because you
want to look into my face like god watches heaven and hell collide
and then decides she has never given birth to anything as beautiful
as animalistic as blurred as screaming as peaceful as blind as
the thing this word or no this thing this human concept that sits
right between us and watches us turning mad out of desire like
the powdery waterfalls of heaven want the magma pumping
through the puckering veins of hell like my body wants to melt
within you until you finally recognize i am the inferno that will
eat you alive to make you full until your stomach hurts just like
just like just like my fingertips ache in remembrance of your fur