Poems from Omlyt
Video:
Nimble fingers, busy hands-
A guilty head tilt off to the right
As delicate lines kiss the page.
She spends her imaginary free time in a...
She presses hands to her hips,
Her small finger-lengths pressed into the skin as she struggles to hold onto reality.
Her belly sticks out...
We're all hidingQuiveringWaitingFor this storm to passIt's raining ticking time bombs and there's not a clockTo be seen or to be...
Dear friend,
I'm tired of the words you spill, each one dancing from the slit in your throat.
Your vocabulary bores me, and I'm growing...
She rose like a flame-
Dancing, moving-
I could taste her name on the end of my tounge, each syllable bubbling over my lips like the...