Agnieszka Mauch hails from Poland. She dabbles in writing, nature photography, and linguistics.
~
FURTHER DISRUPTIONS
Snow’s vibrating
my body is the age of wounds
I once made a girl fall and it was initiation
I should abhor myself
for even daring
I was gradable
I should have one level of me now, I think
I swim like Anne
I can’t
move my arms enough to create a
notion of the sea
it’s the acid that makes us speak up
makes us float
one day
silence will correct me
not exclude me
~
IT’S ALWAYS THE SMALL THINGS
The shadow house is open
all rooms butchered
to the gore
of emptiness
A moon in the pond of the living room
is grinning
it has a face like thistles,
teeth like sightings at 3 am
it feeds me this setup
each time
I am torn apart like some door
to a revered space
sobbing out glass and blood
Reblogged this on kingsoftrain.
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