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“A magical landscape hanging

I had been interested in inanition
and trembling
and had since slipped
inside a deep moral malaise
where my legs cramped and gave to a pair of crutches

You said you had to be somewhere

my mouth slows and picks up the acrid taste
of dehydration
and parts and tastes
a thin fluid
pungent and salty

This landscape is subdued, somber, indistinct
green
and I remember
your hands

and I beg from my palm
and I beg from my palm
and I beg from my palm”
Colette Stone

“In my head
I built you a castle
I dug you a river with my two bare hands
and tied a ribbon around your eyes
to retain your innocence
and I laid my head against your chest
and I could finally close my eyes
and dream”
Colette Stone

“I only watched you lick an oyster shell
and frolic about in girlish dance-wear
with my own fingers tip-toeing across the bare of your arm
to make a little running man
to form the outline of an Eagle
to mock a cobra, slithering

and as I step,
away from you,
I hear myself from underneath the Earth
choked
and silenced.”

Colette Stone

“True love always results in one of two things: suicide or murder.”
Colette Stone
Carmen

“Two indecent bodies with heads topped with black, torpid spots
and a raw, thick skin dropping halfway
and a prurient interest in violence
and deceiving fingertips creeping upward
and the lower half of the body shifting

breathing in and out
panicked

your mouth covered to hush you
and your neck to control the noise
and space
and violence”
Colette Stone

“I like to drink until I am sick.
Sometimes I imagine myself dead in it.”
Colette Stone

“I wish honey bears lived on top of my eyelashes, that way they could make me honey whenever I want.” - Colette Stone

“I sometimes scout locations that have a fantasy-like quality about them to bring my lovers to. I have no interest in sleeping with them at these locations because that would kill it, I think but I try and find the most beautiful places on Earth so that when we’re together it’s a time of very magical thinking.” - Colette Stone

“In moments before and after experiencing the empyrean of physicality, certain sicknesses transferred between us, ones that deepened to degradation and a visible odium; my body was being managed by the men downstairs and then the men upstairs and every so often I caught a glimpse of him through the temporary slits in the blind, with his iron-shaded, matted brows, stressed and engrossed and I would cry, “not again!” And I would fall onto the warmth of the gray, wool pullover staring vacantly, half dreaming with that lion mouths opening and closing on top of my wallpaper.”
-Colette Stone