February 2012
6 posts
3.2. Class II necrophiliacs: romantic necrophiles
These people show only very mild necrophilic tendencies. Theseare the normal bereaved people, who cannot bear separation fromtheir loved ones. They do not seem to agree that their loved oneshave died. They mummify their loved ones’ dead body (or partsof them) and continue relate sexually to them much as they didin life.
January 2012
12 posts
Siete años tuve a mi marido muerto en la cámara, —de día bajo un rosal, de noche entre mis brazos. Con agua de limón le lavaba una vez por semana, —una vez por semana, los viernes por la mañana.
There once was a hermit named Dave Who kept a dead whore in his cave. “I know it’s a sin,” He said with a grin, “But think of the money I save!”
“It seems to me I am trying to tell you a dream—making a vain attempt, because no relation of a dream can convey the dream-sensation, that commingling of absurdity, surprise, and bewilderment in a tremor of struggling revolt, that notion of being captured by the incredible which is of the very essence of dreams…No, it is impossible; it is impossible to convey the life-sensation of any...
December 2011
5 posts
1 tag
225 days under grass and you know more than I. they have long taken your blood, you are a dry stick in a basket. is this how it works? in this room the hours of love still make shadows. when you left you took almost everything. I kneel in the nights before tigers that will not let me be. what you were will not happen again. the tigers have found me and I do not care.
C.B.
November 2011
25 posts
1 tag
Some men look into their minds Into the fleeting winds of a new day And some men look into their hearts Into complete abandon Full of echoes, of dreams A world inside a world A world apart
Te quiero salvar de tu desnudez en pleno centro de la soledad…
It was many and many a year ago, In a kingdom...
Y nunca olvidaré este día…
Cuando la que estaba muerta volvió
Y nos amamos en la orilla, junto al mar.
And I kept no reckoning of time or place, and the stars of my fate faded from heaven, and therefore the earth grew dark, and its figures passed by me like flitting shadows, and among them all I beheld only-Morella. The winds of the firmament breathed but one sound within my ears, and the ripples upon the sea murmured evermore-Morella. But she died; and with my own hands I bore her to the tomb;...
1 tag
Listen
… E poi so bene perché Questo offende Dio, Perché in un istante la sua vita e la mia Saranno fuoco e poi cenere.
October 2011
27 posts
