Salma HQ

Edition December 2020

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Photo credit: Salma HQ

v.1.
maybe in this little boat, we’ll float, back to bora bora …

By Salma HQ

If I tell you I love you
I want you to hear it.

feel it in my presence
feel it in my absence
when the ships leave the docks
to search for more food
when the anchor is drawn up
to ensure we’re anything but subdued
when I step onto your bow
to join eye-lines and live in interlude

feel it when you call
feel it when you hang up
abrupt
when my raft sways near you
rather not send a siren’s song to lead you, to
corrupt
my spaces, both dark and light
balanced in the yin n yang, linked
cuffed
tucked
and yet you still won’t disrupt

feel it with my full
feel it with my hollow
when I know every planet
not blasphemous but omnipotent
when I can’t see the stars
borderline diffident
when you sit grounded watching the oceans
let your thoughts accept me a visitant

feel it in our conversation
feel it in our silence
as we map out movement
and move mountains with music
soothe one another in amusement
and build deals for improvement
while we bring down our flags
laying secluded

we may not see the shore
you see more
than
me and
I’m a nomad sure, but
you blow stability past my lips
so I guess we should explore

when I tell you I love you
I need you to hear it.


Edition June 2020

seminvitation - by Salma HQ (Photo by Sarah fotografierende)Photo credit: Sarah (fotografierende)

seminvitation

By Salma HQ

“if you want…”

an invitation twisted clean upside-down into a faux-apologetic formality

a socially acceptable excuse to retract kindness for brazen emotional frugality

a formidable mentality, it is

a denial on a technicality, it says

‘I don’t want you and you’re welcome to take that in neutrality’

but if hatred is neutral

will my reaction ever be fruitful?

or will we continue to lie in brutal

static banality.


Edition XXX

Cosmic - by Salma HQ (Photo by Peroculus)Photo credit: Peroculus

Cosmic

By Salma HQ

salty trails of molten emotion blazing
you mistake my worry for brazen
condemnation
for the vicious copulation

of the amygdala and every drop of scarlet ire fed to you by the sweet drizzle of familial devotion that fell upon your cheeks still soiled from casual self-crucification

I’ve made the mistake of letting your name age in the back of my brain
fine wine plaguing every vein
with notions of liquid bliss and tachycardic candy canes
you see
it hits like being choked out with golden chains
being drowned in champagne
being kissed to the point of pain
chocolate rain
confectionery propane
a slow-leak
sweet stain
at the height of its reign
a correlation
between my head hitting the floor and your soul starting to ache
between your missed exams and my nightmare of an earthquake
between the hue of your irises and my newfound obsession with devil’s food cake
though,
that one might be a fondness of my own creation
lest you let a speck of unrest out of the confines of your mind
pray, breathe, emote loudly and freely
I lay in resting vexation
always
until the stars align
qué será será.


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