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Lit Nomad
@lit-nomad
46
(Poetry/Non-Fiction/ Personal Narratives) psycho-emotional musings, odes to awe, and liberated writing with glitters of feminist rants.
Followers
91
Following
15
Resource Credits
Available
Used
Location
Shanghai // NYC
Created
2017-02-20 10:42
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lit-nomad
poetry
2018-04-24 07:20
(Poetry) The Delineation of Cravings
i. I want to suck on stardust while crying my heart out, to a chorus of angels stripping me bare of my skin. I want to birth words and sentences out of wounds, and call my mother to tell her I love her.
$ 0.000
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2
lit-nomad
poetry
2018-04-23 02:55
Angels in Osaka
At edges of cosmos, unwrapped I tipped over to pour water, over Japanese silks- while a storm brews, in flat, far-off land. A place I called home, once. Yesterday I cried in an onsen, Cold jade tiles swimming
$ 0.000
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2
lit-nomad
poetry
2018-01-06 23:48
(Poetry) Where I've traveled today
I've been practicing to kiss the dew of my juices, off wildflowers growing in your palms, for some time now. I've wanted to lick the inner continents of your mouth, feel the inner chambers you breathe
$ 0.000
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2
lit-nomad
poetry
2017-12-17 11:01
(Poetry) Wartime Medicine
Pounding breastplates and breathing bones, bronzed armor turned to jaded tears, and I can’t seem to tear my eyes away from the rumbling revolts of battlefields in my lower back. Tendons turned to trenches
$ 0.041
5
4
lit-nomad
poetry
2017-05-20 05:00
(Poetry) Inheritance
I washed your beaten face from the river spilling in me, cleaned your bandages, and re-weaved them from my skin. I breathed new air in your lungs, and broke-in your leather shoes. So when you kissed me
$ 0.000
2
lit-nomad
poetry
2017-04-28 07:27
(Poetry) Soma
I’m terrified yet simultaneously elated for the skin on my back to start flaking. To trace wildflowers where ruins had been, days before. Where perhaps Nature grows again with adventurous laughter of never
$ 10.773
168
lit-nomad
poetry
2017-03-25 09:20
(Poetry) When Helene Cixous taught me to birth myself
An earthquake of magnitude Eleven shook the core of who I was, So I took up the strands of Spirit and time, weaving and re-weaving myself into something else I’m afraid I won’t like. How futile this back
$ 0.025
6
lit-nomad
poetry
2017-03-20 14:00
(Poetry) That one night I fell in love with you
I’m the motherfucking Pythoness with bandaids for temples and sand for castles. I sit and turn in the desert of my soul amongst lizards and scorpions; fingers trailing grooves in cracked dirt, peering
$ 5.447
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