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lettheletters.blogspot.com

Let The Letters

Monday, August 30, 2010. Laborious Breathing Tells Its Own Tales. I tell the story. In the cold air. Warm oxygen from my own blood- i bleed to breathe. I expel it- my being entire! That slips between my lips. The words dance from my grasp. No breath is my own. From tasting of cord umbilicalis. As the forming of my mouth in womb. Is my mind formed by the world. As my mother still hungered. Though i filled her abyss. Does the universe fill me. Yet i do not full understand. All we breathe is recycled.

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Let The Letters | lettheletters.blogspot.com Reviews
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Monday, August 30, 2010. Laborious Breathing Tells Its Own Tales. I tell the story. In the cold air. Warm oxygen from my own blood- i bleed to breathe. I expel it- my being entire! That slips between my lips. The words dance from my grasp. No breath is my own. From tasting of cord umbilicalis. As the forming of my mouth in womb. Is my mind formed by the world. As my mother still hungered. Though i filled her abyss. Does the universe fill me. Yet i do not full understand. All we breathe is recycled.
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1 skip to main
2 skip to sidebar
3 let the letters
4 like frosty expiration
5 to wasting away
6 the only originality
7 is veracity
8 a brimming cornucopia
9 pick and choose
10 a pomegranate breast
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skip to main,skip to sidebar,let the letters,like frosty expiration,to wasting away,the only originality,is veracity,a brimming cornucopia,pick and choose,a pomegranate breast,feed on me,but carefully so,breathing in,air is reality,0 comments,ghost
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Let The Letters | lettheletters.blogspot.com Reviews

https://lettheletters.blogspot.com

Monday, August 30, 2010. Laborious Breathing Tells Its Own Tales. I tell the story. In the cold air. Warm oxygen from my own blood- i bleed to breathe. I expel it- my being entire! That slips between my lips. The words dance from my grasp. No breath is my own. From tasting of cord umbilicalis. As the forming of my mouth in womb. Is my mind formed by the world. As my mother still hungered. Though i filled her abyss. Does the universe fill me. Yet i do not full understand. All we breathe is recycled.

INTERNAL PAGES

lettheletters.blogspot.com lettheletters.blogspot.com
1

Let The Letters: 10/26/08

http://www.lettheletters.blogspot.com/2008_10_26_archive.html

Sunday, October 26, 2008. I delight in your face. In your hair, in your dress. I delight in your flavour. Grassgreen wine and kiss excess. I delight in your breath. Sweet doe meadow and oldmen mess. I wake, still dreaming, of you. Posted by Evelyn Mak. Subscribe to: Posts (Atom).

2

Let The Letters: 01/17/09

http://www.lettheletters.blogspot.com/2009_01_17_archive.html

Saturday, January 17, 2009. What i felt before. now, it is just a chilly wind. For all those people i left behind: i saw your pictures.). Sun shades the dock end, rocking seagull-skies. Reflection of the blooming, Killers call goodbye. Breathe in the salt air, and hum, hum a sigh. This is the where-who, this is my—. Molten dappled sun, stripes and rings on my wall. Half winking windows, cry but naught fall. Breathe in the gold air, and lazily call. This is the where-so, this is my—. Posted by Evelyn Mak.

3

Let The Letters: 12/03/08

http://www.lettheletters.blogspot.com/2008_12_03_archive.html

Wednesday, December 3, 2008. Silk is brushing the floors, from the high ceiling. It is like the paper-thin wings of a fluttering moth. But this gentle whisper of fabric, hushing the floor. Only flies as the winter opens and pours in splashes of white. The clear light is half filtered by these curtains,. Like a cold stroke of a small cataract in all its detached splendor,. But the rest of the sun reaches the floor like the call of dawn. Caressing the morning with a quiet passion; a constant lover. The sun...

4

Let The Letters: 10/22/08

http://www.lettheletters.blogspot.com/2008_10_22_archive.html

Wednesday, October 22, 2008. Stemmed from bfh article "do we still love life? The sad sad world where we don't feel the sun,. But rather, see it from window panes reflected off our pc screens). What a pile of necrophile-s. All of all in thumbnails small. Strike a pose, flashbulbs flash. Sluts and hoes, mish thee mash. Geeks and freaks, scry my mind. For the compliment; no time! They have photoshopped the think. Said 'gorgeous ladies' with a wink. And a slight 'wzzp? Words the unafraid to touch. Above is ...

5

Let The Letters: ghost

http://www.lettheletters.blogspot.com/2009/12/ghost.html

Tuesday, December 1, 2009. Posted by Evelyn Mak. I really enjoy this, to a point i should stop staring. January 25, 2010 at 12:06 AM. Subscribe to: Post Comments (Atom).

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| My thoughts | Page 2

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March 28, 2011. February 8, 2011. S shared this with me just now. Pretty much sums up how I’m doing recently. I am doing okay and good–something that’s wrong. I don’t want to be ok and good–I want to have the same passion for Jesus that Paul and Peter and the first disciples had, not a watered down version. February 6, 2011. I’m twenty-three years old today! Awkward things to say:. 8211; Twenty-three years ago I burst out of my mother’s womb. 8211; I am one year closer to my death. Also need to get back ...

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Let The Letters

Monday, August 30, 2010. Laborious Breathing Tells Its Own Tales. I tell the story. In the cold air. Warm oxygen from my own blood- i bleed to breathe. I expel it- my being entire! That slips between my lips. The words dance from my grasp. No breath is my own. From tasting of cord umbilicalis. As the forming of my mouth in womb. Is my mind formed by the world. As my mother still hungered. Though i filled her abyss. Does the universe fill me. Yet i do not full understand. All we breathe is recycled.

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