BOOKS


The hole in my heart is now so wide that any arrow will just pass through.

On arrows

— e.lisitsa

Magic is fire without fuel. It is looking ahead and knowing that your spark can set the whole world aflame.

On fire

— e.lisitsa

Spring is just
allergy
allegory
allegro
all ego among the flowers
But it was just the rain coming

On spring

— e.lisitsa

On farewell

She decided then to send it all to hell:
the good night was a greeting, the good morning a farewell.

— e.lisitsa

One of those days when I feel alive in some thirty different dimensions.
Tall, wide, and deep as far as my imagination can go.

On dimensions

— e.lisitsa

The water slipped through his fingers until nothing was left but fragile oblique drops, no match for the dry weather of winter. And when the last trickle went down the back of his hand, he recalled this was the same feeling as when her hair strands were the ones escaping, each time he caressed her nape.
He just wished he could have then, when it was her hair slipping through his fingers, the same notion that nothing is forever, and that at some point his hands would be dry and empty again.

— 

Unfinished lives #22

— e.lisitsa

But isn’t it the most crooked Sun the one to draw the most beautiful shadows?

On sunset

— e.lisitsa

Vertigo came looking up
He was affraid of lows

On heights

— e.lisitsa

When our infinite ended, the void you left was even bigger.
Yeah, once more you managed to bend logic.

On logic

— e.lisitsa

On the sky

I got lost in the cloudless sky,
in the delicate lines of a winter afternoon.
The night comes soon
and I look at the stars,
my guide,
willing to be lost forever.

— e.lisitsa

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