stems

one of the things
about love
is how it reveals monsters to me
in my own temples
and chest,
with slow heavy legs,
i have become a drum
against the floorboards.

but i decide and speak gently,
there is a timing to the return
like a ball flying over a net,
the when of the kiss
and the sibilance of the yes.

there was a giving in,
the top of the lighthouse,
when my fierce fist
became soft against the rail
and lifted right off,
there was the night where
i let you hold me
like i was hardly there at all,
some piece of clothing
that had caught up in your sheets.
some feather moving in your breath.
a whole being
dissolved in your glass.

frequencies unheard because we are sleeping.

i have grown toward you.
the stems are curved like this.
all of my careful
and carelessness.
the song in the shower
and the world on a map.

i will let you
if you will let me.

Lotte Kestner w/ Montavilla, China 2014

8.8 Beijing http://www.douban.com/event/21832497/
8.9 Shanghai :http://www.douban.com/event/21832031/
8.10 Nanjing : http://www.douban.com/event/21832096/
8.12 Chongqing: http://www.douban.com/event/21832142/
8.14 Chengdu : http://www.douban.com/event/21832209/
8.15 Wuhan : http://www.douban.com/event/21832224/
8.16 Changsha: http://www.douban.com/event/21832299/
8.17 Guangzhou :http://www.douban.com/event/21833202/
8.19 Shenzhen : http://www.douban.com/event/21832452/


flier:

burns

i do not wish for things
i don’t have,
i only wish
to be free of things
that are there.
the electrodes
at my temples,
the nerves
that in storms
have worn bare,
the burns that you can see
and the burns that you cannot see
because they live
inside my arms.
the memory of something sweet
when something sweet
is absent,
and is only a fluttering curtain
above my head.
you do not realize
how many things
you have to do over and over
until it hurts.
the night plays the saddest part
of the symphony,
and vines grow
around my window.
i probably
whispered terrible things
to the quiet shadows.
and in the morning
my broken spirit was unbroken again.