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Poetry Collection

Austin Yackle

"I am so Hungry" Audrey Williams


nature’s arms, 

tendering the skin of a newborn 

a pure, moral infant of flora and fauna

it grows up; addiction inhales it


matured fleetly by the burning of cigarettes: 

the desire to cough,

driven by impulses


with the inhale: high

and smoke; withered from the lips


fallen from his loneliness

limbs echoing a singular sound

sound of breathing


violence of affliction

turned into a nugatory,

to forget what once was forbidden 


androgyne, love me

androgyne, love me

kindred at birth

obliged by the coteries

revolution bites its tongue beneath their incandescence 

pondering what it is about you


androgyne, love me

tender Californian blonde

pale dewy skin

sullen eyes dabbled in blood

and you endeared yourself to me


androgyne, love me

you're the freshly picked magnolias

ripened with a palate of complexions

still, an enigma to me

but nevertheless, heavenly


androgyne, love me

with your imprint in my garth

decayed to flourish my youth

and my gums’ roots pushing out my teeth

garlanded with satiny jewels


androgyne, love me

as i stare into the parallel

our faces blend

engendering this abstraction

an androgynous abstraction




femininity was seen as the gossamer vanda orchids that flourish

delicate, but exquisite

masculinity seen as the canvas 

in which it pillars an artist’s inner abstraction

thinking of an intermix of the two seemed elusive to me


i ponder the androgynous 

i lust 

for something like the ocean and underneath my breath

i wanna be as beautiful as the ocean

sometimes i pray to the ocean


that velvety cerulean of the ocean

the tender seductiveness of intimacy and delicacy

the silky touch of grace

composed through its poetry with its vigorous waves

it’s broadening and abysmal


in this solitude

isolated by the grace of the Lord

where mannequins lie untouched

with their fleshly skeleton

defected by their form

seeking viability through a smokey ambiance


scenes of lamentation from the girls

with angel dust beneath their nose

to be elsewhere. . . is to be desired

we loved being loved. . .as we wore 

our garments of skin with no shame


fissures in the pelagic wanderings

pull me down to a frigid inferno

a suffering that is neverending

but. . . from what i have grasped

the intention of nourishment 

is what we find through  e x p e r i e n c e

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