Eora/Sydney / Full-Time Lover

Currently hyper-aware but I'll slip into the dreamscape in a couple of minutes.

Lakshmi Krishnan is looking for love. She is writing a book for the past called ‘Sacrosanct: The Delusion Between Pain and Pleasure’. It will be released posthumously.


Sugar leaves are taped to the stretch of a great vine.
Godin sings shiny crystal sex as I’m winced open by a tight choke that grips my flesh log dead.
I flew to your window at least thrice a day in the past week, watching you whip another’s ass bare.
Mama is calling on spirits at her dining desk.
A broom whistles in the hallway like air, and I shouldn’t think it materialised
But mama lit a diya, who's flame is yet to break my stare.
Silence wears a wedding dress at a graveyard. I see young Rimbaud smile evil under his fire hair.
I’m not in bits about phallic gateways whispering tall-tales and magic to my numb state.
Long nose speaks sentience. This mastery is all I have left.


© Neptune and Manisha Anjali