on / the level
Pressure occurs in small spaces.
Meet me in the gap. Open nostalgia. Memory is not rational always. Memory resides in moving. Rewriting requires motion, the interstice. Melt it through decomposition.
Dilute the logic.
Like a molten polyester. Progressing over bridges. Over running water. That moves over and above things like time forward. Rock softness. A fabric unraveling.
sigh / the memory
The bodies surfaces create the scene.
Swerve in amorous and color heavy. Again in the illusory guilt again out of body dysfunction again as an ambition only again to pursue reality through implication.
The amorous carries an uncanny bodily presence.
Where absence is incompletion. Therein lies the content. Or glitches in nerve-endings. That provide touch. Both embalm in awareness. The desire to wake up. To exhale this death. To feel. To touch. To hold. The skin. Again.
friday / the thirteenth
The skin is a texture of pain.
The skin is a language of pain. My skin holds your pain. I wear it like a waterfall dressing me. Outpour and endless.
A fabric sown.
Where water holds the buoyant body and patterns reveal what is suspended. In sound. In transparent. In touch. In space. Where architecture folds in upon sensation. And opens to reveal organs that vibrate like living. Like breathing again.
Tiara Roxanne was born in a ghost town. She is a Berlin-based scholar, practitioner, and poet. She was the recipient of the Zora Neale Hurston Award at Naropa University. She has also been featured in CA Conrad’s Jupiter 88, The Monster Issue of Gesture: A Literary Journal, Semicolon, Phlyogeny, Love Shuffle Review, Din Magazine, Interkors Magazine, and Continent, among others. At present, Tiara is a Ph.D. candidate at the EGS, where her dissertation investigates intergenerational trauma and artificial intelligence.