Nicola Cayless.
Looking for light in words.

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I’m swallowing words like they’re painkillers, and yet there’s still an ache lodged deep within me that I cannot quite excavate.

Awkward slam face~~

and you
are what they call
summer nights

when the afternoon
sweats away
and we are only left

with the heavy echo
of heat and a sleepy
disappearing sun

Están moviéndose lentamente, escuchando el pulso del mundo.

And well dance like cancer survivors - like we’re grateful simply to be alive.

I fall in love with things more easily in the rain.
Things that could destroy me.
Cigarettes. Red-lipped girls. Champagne. Disappearing.
It’s just something about the way the world looks when the sky gives up.
We’re disintegrating.

I wish I was a punk cat with flowers in my hair…

Your redwinelips left smudges I’m still finding, months later.

Anonymous :  Who are the authors that inspired you the most in your style of writing

Hmmm. This is difficult. TS Eliot. ee cummings. They both taught me what is great about poetry. Michael Ondaatje, for what is vulnerable. Gregory Sherl and Richard Siken, for being brave and bare. Anne Carson, for being intelligent and humble. Sylvia Plath, for being a true technician. Ted Hughes, for being clever yet honest. Thomas Hardy, for grieving. Dan Stephensen, for being different and beautiful.

Leaving America today.