Flowers, Viktor & Rolf Collection, Spring/Summer 2003, stills/screenshots
Falling harder
I long for the softest
purest lace of thought
Retire to calm nervous tension
relieving painfully uncovering
snow- coldest touch
I suffer and look directly at them
They stare
Sylvia, Virginia, Iris
Marching and banning your drums
Stones in your pockets
Rivers flowing, the seas, the sea
Seagulls
your brave thoughts
Screaming onwards
Go, go, go
Match your flags
I continue
Sparkling diamonds
Hands apart I have no fear
Hollow blackness and granite silence
I am upside and downwards
Reunion of thought and old feelings
You are my mountain
Embody me, you’ll understand
Or perhaps you never will
Does it matter?
To my knowledge I shall resign from you
Right now
You remind me
I crawl towards your chronic fatigue
Gather your ample skirts
Shake your meaty limbs and overflowing breasts
Standing absently minding doorways
Blurred vision
My flatfooted stumble towards you
Red lipstick candlelight
You will never leave my bed
Around your meek and weakened limbs
I am afraid
I am afraid by entering me you will steal
These emotions are worth nothing
Nothing is
The glare of the screens
the music beating your heart
Forward
For one day, you too, shall die
It won't last
I have barely gathered
What do you want from my body
Solid heavy embrace
Trembling in your selfish presence on behalf of all the others I salute you
You loved me once
Perhaps again you do
Reflective surface of my skin I can see you
From here
the state of the need
your new name
we fly back and fade to black
Leaving painfully
Behind your fingertips and traces of saliva
Silvery red and slippery
The space between you
the clown
The children we shall not know
The trees the stones of jewellery the leaves and spring
Oldest pausing backwards
rewinding
Never reaching, never floating
In Paris or London
Belonging singing praising you
The cities swoon and crumble under the heaviness of your leather boots
Stumbling over her grandeur run and laugh
Accordingly
There are no windows
No doors no exit no entries
The hidden treasures
The space
The floating worlds and slowly cooked ideas
The stew of flowers
I collected in the fields
The coffin of the melodies
The red cloth
Covering
What are you waiting for
For the treasure of stupidity
For the true value of mad rush
the flat fields and meadows
in the corn, the wheat
solo
Knowing unknowing
Rising and skies above
The loneliness pursuing
in shadows
Xmas light decoration
lurking in the smallest
details carved in whiteness
purple shadows and yellow highlights
Waiting Waiting longing longing
the light
Reminds me
I shall be terrorizing you soon
Herself
Do you know where she lies?
Somewhere around here
The children we call women
The women we call old
One day you will be what they all are amongst your mountains of junk food bright wrappers plastic to go containers and Jewel oz co bags amidst piles of unwashed laundry mimicking your relationship to your self one day it will be omitted little how large how big how small you were how thin how fat how thick one day wondering the streets of the city of oz which you create you stumble across the world of you and once upon a time you see yourself floating above yourself and shadows and lights fade and disappear and towards you opens a close up of your worn face and only then with windows or required thought of truth we shall Miracle into the future light of our deaths and only then you require anonymity of your art.
Bright bold spectacular
Working hardly
Perfecting hair
You bring her food
Enjoying the body
Rooted in loneliness
Describing in blood
I understand your Misery
Sometimes silence trembles beside me
I let it
Fuck
the world owes you nothing
the blue stain
the chunky white stroke of your paint
the brushed aside
your tiny world sins heavily
awkwardly you dance
slowly gesticulating
nowhere have I found
these types of unconsciousness
the green of pastures
to accomplish
to shock
to remind and walk
to flirt feverishly vomiting your juices
I swelled
nothing remains whilst you may weep
nothing stings anymore
golden
the troublesome boy
the best of the year
the dry mouth
the liquid
the soup
them sitting beside me
Virginia, Iris, Sylvia
Head in the oven
River
The brain stew
The active birds
Outside
The snow covered Chicago
The unwilling flights of fancy
I AM to be
awaiting
glowing in my own dark
Ah, repelling men, I rejoice
Oh gloomy days
I seek you out
The depressed awaiting collaboration
The contributions are welcome
upraised
unskilled and handsome
tint the nights
of the blankets
the coffee colored stains
the trees in your frontyards
no imitator
you try so hard to learn
words express hardly touching your toes
you burn burn burn for nobody to catch
redeeming and fasting
the true meaning
the blur
the idea
that idea
I want gypsy floated large skirts layers and volume
flowers unmatched all colors mixed
twirl and scoop swoon and return
alert
everyday is your party
Party it up girl
woman you are
refuse to be polluted and shallow
floor length tulle
barely skimming
ashes
Katya Grokhovsky, Untitled 2011
