

(Source: tanvatrapettagi)
maudlin of the Well - “Geography”
Listening reveals his wounds
Voiceless, he kneels to you
Like a glinting dagger, one quick look
And he spills you
Sheets surrender you
And I expect trauma
Breath is real, anger’s real
Sleep on your birthday and cry
Cry, my baby
Let me wash you
I have no ears for my lady…
Listen to me
You’re called a silhouette
You’re playful with a sin
But you see me
Speak, or stop, or kiss me
Your art is like your grin
It delivers me
maudlin of the Well - Heaven And Weak
I am a swan’s wings, bloodied at the joint
and pasted to a boy’s back: like in that story.