Comments Posted By irina

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He might take her nipple into his mouth. He might slide his fingers down her sides, tracing the lace of her panties. He might place butterfly kisses around her nipple. Or, he might just leave her there, aroused.

» Posted By Irina On 11.08.2015 @ 7:31 am


turtles are patience. they are old and rested and rusty. a turtle reaches a kind of Enlightment in a way humans struggle to because while a human actively persists against nature, a turtle simply is.

» Posted By irina On 07.31.2014 @ 4:32 pm


water fall brain weather nice day in the middle of the winter , still thinking too much

» Posted By Irina On 04.09.2014 @ 8:10 pm


wealthy, money, rich people, property, a will, famous rich parents, earn money, charity, healthy

» Posted By Irina On 04.11.2013 @ 5:06 am

welfare – what is it? It could be some posh moll in the UK. But actually is the state, when people have enough of everything and happy with this.

» Posted By Irina On 04.11.2013 @ 4:59 am


murder was a horror romantic movie. with lots of sex and drama. emran hasmi was the actor who had sex wid mallika on stairs when her husband was away. it was a boring movie not at all a family movie.. and i watched it twenty times

» Posted By irina On 02.02.2013 @ 6:54 pm


something that you can not jump over to, something really necessary, something which will help you from then on, something important

» Posted By irina On 01.07.2013 @ 12:54 pm


to a place that’s hidden beyond it. to something you most probably know. but what if you give it a new meaning. what if you start thinking of it as a transition. transit to a new place every time you open a door

» Posted By irina On 10.17.2012 @ 12:10 pm


side walk in the dark with no one next to you, lonely as hell, sad and whatever. smoking a cigar and thinking about tomorrow like it’s never gonna come.

» Posted By irina On 10.15.2012 @ 4:49 am


soups are delicious, i love the cold ones, onion soup in bread, french soup, my mom s home made soup.
i don t especially like fruit soups, but i can eat them if necessary. i don t know what else to write about soupds

» Posted By irina On 06.26.2012 @ 6:10 am


oil and egg yolks and water
I once saw an experiment
that put soap in droplets of oil
and water and they called it
dream cells

I wish they had added some
spice to it; some unseemliness

» Posted By Irina On 05.01.2012 @ 7:26 pm


irina tu o sa fii cea mai fericita si norocoasa

» Posted By irina On 04.22.2012 @ 9:10 am


the act of supposition is embarrassing. that’s all it is. and all the memories connected to these fragmented sentences- I guess they’re symbolic of all the depth beneath each word I say. puddle sized; oceanic.

» Posted By Irina On 10.03.2011 @ 11:53 am


The hipster thing to do. I think of Toms; of Tom; of Axe Excite. I’m an angel falling, an innocent daisy chain woven into the tight braids of anti-aging.

» Posted By Irina On 10.01.2011 @ 7:10 pm


dying ship, titanic, drowning, you can drown when you sink. water in lungs. can’t breathe. Dying person. Plunging. scary

» Posted By Irina On 08.22.2011 @ 8:42 pm


Today I walked away from both white buildings, their squares jutting into the summer blue. Green trees. Grey sidewalks. Every color alive, every branch and leaf clear even through my watering eyes.

» Posted By Irina On 07.17.2011 @ 4:38 pm


I’ve always thought they were attractive. It’s slim and it curls into smoke; held by the lips and inhaled with a hard look in the eyes. There’s a steeliness to smoking.

» Posted By Irina On 07.15.2011 @ 8:50 pm


I crush rock after rock against each other, hair sometimes catching on the edges. Tears, rage, frustration, some kind of joyful hopelessness – a million emotions and a million tiny splinters fly with each pound.

» Posted By Irina On 06.28.2011 @ 8:21 pm


I am wrapped up in your being
I am crumpled around your heart
Trying to find the meaning
In each hug, and word, and part
of you that I admire: nose
and forehead, chest and chin;
I have clenched this little rose
And loved the prick, again.

» Posted By Irina On 06.27.2011 @ 3:06 pm



» Posted By Irina On 06.26.2011 @ 3:49 pm


I sprinkled star glitter on my cheeks and when people pointed, I told them it was magic.
I go camping every year to an island, and one day after I stepped out of the shower, I nearly stepped on a deer standing outside the stall.
Someday I will go to the forest and bathe as free as the day I was born, and a herd of deer will escort me.

» Posted By Irina On 06.25.2011 @ 6:24 pm


it is not my fault but I have failed. I keep sharing with people, hoping to feel validated. Just another form of gossip. No fresh visions tonight; tonight I lick my wounds and ignore the pressing words.

» Posted By Irina On 06.24.2011 @ 10:11 pm


I never write things down; I always speak them: loud so you will hear and pass them on. keep them going. don’t hold on. my mountains and my falling rocks; my islands and my charted spots.

» Posted By Irina On 06.23.2011 @ 2:43 pm


If I could predict anything, with any certainty of fulfillment, I would say that all our children’s eyes will be blue, and their hair glinting tiny hints of gold in a certain light.

» Posted By Irina On 06.20.2011 @ 11:24 am


The earth is round, and in it are a billion round people. Circles everywhere: in the eyes, in the veins, on our elbows and knees and spotted across our faces. I think it’s a game of connect the dots or maybe hide-and-seek.

» Posted By Irina On 06.18.2011 @ 11:03 pm


I walk by her flower garden every day, and I see the daises get taller, unfold their whiteness. Every time I’m tempted to take one, but then I think of myself, living on a second story, feeling all the feelings of my baby flowers. I haven’t plucked one yet.

» Posted By Irina On 06.17.2011 @ 10:04 pm


His smile is such a pale, small movement. Every time I bring it out I bask in its tiny lunar light. I am a fiery sun furiously spinning around the half-lidded moon.

» Posted By Irina On 06.16.2011 @ 11:06 pm


Eating the rails, hungry for the greener grass. Never able to get off the tracks.

» Posted By Irina On 06.15.2011 @ 10:49 pm


Grim wheels and tracks; I think of Bob Dylan and rainbow gatherings, of the nomadic life and other cliched scenes. I think of Polish women waving goodbye, their platochki gripped in their hands.

» Posted By Irina On 06.14.2011 @ 10:07 pm


So death comes and goes, and we weep in throes
when we remember; when we remember we’re supposed to remember.

» Posted By Irina On 06.11.2011 @ 1:02 pm

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